


Walk The Line

by Hatterized



Series: The Truth [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, Drama, Enemy Lovers, Fluff, Forced Marriage, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2018-11-08 04:38:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 100,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11074218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatterized/pseuds/Hatterized
Summary: Rick has made his agreement with Negan work- but at what cost? As the two grow closer, the threat of war between their communities grows. Alexandria is ready to rise up, and Rick isn't sure what will happen in the aftermath- to his family, his friends, and to his newfound relationship with the man who caused it all.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is finally happening! I'm so excited to start posting this, I know the wait has been a little long (so sorry about that). I hope people still remember The Truth and that the sequel lives up to it!
> 
> This was beta'd by the wonderful Renchaos on Tumblr, so a massive thank you to them!

When Rick woke up, the first thing he was aware of was a pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Strong arms, and then the fact that he wasn’t in his bed in the small room he’d come to call his own. He was surrounded by soft gray sheets on a mattress that didn’t have lumps, and he felt more comfortable and at peace than he had in the past three months. And to think, it was all because he’d finally told Negan how he felt.

_Negan. Speaking of him…_

Rick pushed back into the body behind him, shivering when he felt skin brush skin. He felt the other man stir awake behind him, tightening his hold on Rick and tangling their legs together

“Mornin’, Rick.” Negan’s voice had that just-woken-up sleepy rumble to it, and it made Rick smile to himself.

“Morning,” he replied drowsily, humming contentedly when he felt soft lips pressing against his neck and against the sensitive spot behind his ear. “Your bed’s way more comfortable than mine.”

Negan chuckled into his hair. “Yeah, perks of being the boss, Rick.”

Rick craned his neck enough that he was facing Negan and brought their lips together in a lazy, feather-light kiss. “I may have to stay here,” he murmured teasingly against Negan’s lips.

A rush of mixed emotions passed over Negan’s face before he settled back into the easy teasing they were sharing. “I’ll think about it.” He pressed their mouths together again, more firmly this time, missing the look of surprise on Rick’s face at his answer. He’d been expecting Negan to laugh or shoot him down outright- hell, he’d been hesitant enough to let Rick stay the night here, after all.

Negan’s hands moved to Rick’s hips, pinning them to the bed as he rolled over and in between his legs. Rick huffed a laugh against Negan’s lips when he felt something thick and hot pressing against his stomach. “Really? Already? We just woke up.”

Negan kissed a wet line from Rick’s lips to his neck, mouthing at the purple-tinged marks he’d left there last night. “Yeah, Rick! I seem to recall you saying something about round two happening when you woke up. Well, you’re fucking up. And I’m up.” He raised an eyebrow suggestively, his hazel eyes alight with mirth. “Not gonna flip your shit again, are you? Because if you do, I really don’t think I’m gonna fucking believe you this time.”

Rick inwardly cringed at the mention of their last almost-morning-quickie. “I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Negan’s expression warmed at that, softening like butter. “So…is that a yes to round two?” He grinned, giving a lazy thrust of his hips into Rick’s while sliding a hand beneath the sheets and between their bodies. Rick’s eyes blew wide as the hand wrapped around him. “Seems like you’re into it.”

“I…don’t I have a job assignment?” He didn’t really know why he was trying to resist- albeit halfheartedly so- because there was really no hiding that he was very much interested in what Negan was offering. Maybe it was just too much fun to mess with Negan.

“You can be late. You’re sleeping with the boss.” He gave Rick a teasing squeeze.

“Shut up,” Rick breathed, pulling Negan in for another hungry kiss.

* * *

Rick tumbled out of Negan’s room an hour later, after a shower and a shared breakfast and, yes, round two. His sense of blissful optimism gradually faded on the drive to Alexandria, and by the time he reached the gates, the usual sense of guilt had set in. Not as strongly as usual, not now that he’d talked to Michonne and Daryl about the…situation- but it was still there, lingering just below the surface.

The guilt ate away at him the rest of the day, as he worked and trained people and helped Michonne set up a rough schedule for supply runs. She’d taken up a lot of responsibility in his wake, both in leading Alexandria and in taking care of Carl and Judith, which only served to make him feel worse. Him liking Negan made everything that had happened and was still happening to his family and his friends complicated and even more frustrating.

He settled for trying his best to make up for it while he was there. He didn’t take a single second of it for granted, splitting his time between doing actual work and spending time with his kids. He watched as Judith toddled happily around the living room, asking Carl how things were going at home. The whole thing was hard on him, Rick could tell, even if Carl did his best to hide that from Rick. He could hear it, though, spilling from in between his words, unspoken.

“It’s just different around here lately, I guess. It feels weird now. Emptier. Glenn and Abraham are gone, and Carol and Morgan...and then Maggie and Sasha are at the Hilltop. Enid actually left to go check on Maggie, and she’s going to stay up there, I guess.”

That was news to Rick. “When did this happen? Do you know that she got there safe, if she’s okay?”

Carl nodded, long hair falling in his eyes. “A couple weeks ago. Yeah, she’s alright. Jesus comes by sometimes, keeps us updated on her and Maggie and Sasha. I, uh. I actually went with Enid. I didn’t want her to go there alone.”

Fear gripped Rick at the idea of the two of them out there on their own. They were smart, strong kids, sure, but still. “Carl, that’s...I’m glad you were looking out for each other, but the two of you could have gotten hurt, or caught out there. You didn’t come back alone, did you?”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Carl huffed, sounding every bit the moody teenager. “I can take care of myself.”

He was growing up fast, Rick had to admit- even going out on supply runs with Michonne and Daryl from time to time, a prospect that made Rick equal parts proud and mind-numbingly terrified. He trusted Michonne and Daryl absolutely, and he knew that Carl was better equipped than most to venture beyond the wall, but he still couldn’t shake the overprotective parental instinct that wanted to tell Carl to stay put and be safe.

In the back of his mind, in a deep, dark place that spewed invasive thoughts that Rick was unwilling to give voice to, Rick quietly wondered if he even had the authority to make such a call for his son anymore.

Early in the evening, after Judith was in her crib for the night, Rick decided to take a walk and clear his head, which was aching and clouded with worried thoughts that he couldn’t shake. He found himself drawn to the church like a magnet, pacing back and forth in front of it several times before finally giving in and coming to a stop outside the front doors.

Rick shifted awkwardly back and forth outside of the church, debating on whether or not he should venture inside. He needed to vent, to talk to someone impartial, but he wasn’t sure that the whole judgment-free impartiality of confession still applied when you were fucking the person who was subjugating your friends and family.

He didn’t particularly feel like he deserved to be listened to without judgment, and hell, maybe he didn’t. Maybe he needed to hear that he was being a huge fucking idiot and that he needed to put a stop to all of it before it got out of hand.

And maybe that’s why he was hesitating, because he didn’t want to hear any of that.

Rick turned to leave, deciding against confessing his many sins, only to be met by just the man he’d been wanting to see: Father Gabriel.

“Rick, hello. I didn’t expect to see you here. You haven’t been coming by during your visits to Alexandria.” His voice was calm and without judgment, just stating facts.

Rick ran a hand over the back of his neck, feeling uncomfortable. “Uh. Yeah. I was- I was coming to talk to you, actually. I need some impartial advice.”

Gabriel smiled and gestured toward the door. “I can’t say that I’m completely impartial, Rick, but I’ll do my best. Why don’t you come in?” He opened the front door and stepped inside and Rick followed him in, walking down the aisle behind him. It reminded him of the ridiculous makeshift chapel in the Sanctuary that he and Negan had gotten married in.

Gabriel took a seat on a pew in the front row and gestured for Rick to join him. Rick sat, hands in his lap, eyes roaming the room for anything to focus on so that he didn’t have to look the other man in the eye.

“What seems to be on your mind, Rick?”

Rick focused on the podium in the front as he spoke. “Do you believe people can change? That people who have done evil things can redeem themselves?”

“I think you know my stance on that, Rick. And I think you know your stance as well. You and I have both done terrible things, whether they were in the name of survival or not. I can hardly count a single person among our group who hasn’t done something that weighs heavily on their conscience. This world doesn’t lend itself easily to goodness, especially not anymore.”

Rick was silent. While it was true that the majority of the people he counted among his friends had killed people, he knew it was in the name of survival. He could vouch for their motives.

“I get the sense that you’re talking about someone in particular.” Rick bit his lip, staying quiet. “Are you talking about Negan?” Gabriel prodded gently.

Well, shit. He wanted to deny it, now that it was said out loud, but what was the point in doing that when he had come here to do the exact opposite?

“Yes,” Rick answered, still looking ahead.

“What makes you think that he wants to change?” No judgment, no sarcasm, just a genuine question. And a fair one, at that.

Rick sighed, “I don’t know if he does. But…” He trailed off.

“But?”

“But I’ve seen a different side of him, since I’ve been…since I’ve been with him. And he’s not- I know how this is going to sound, but he’s not evil. He does things differently, I don’t always understand it, and I don’t always agree with it, but he doesn’t do what he does to be cruel.”

Gabriel seemed to take this in stride. “Then why does he do it?”

“He told me, when I first got there, that he and I weren’t so different. That I’d done terrible things in the name of survival, and so had he.”

“Do you agree with him?”

“I didn’t, at the time. Because I’d just seen him kill Glenn and Abraham. Because I hated him and wanted to see him as a murderer, as someone to hate, as something to fear.”

“And you’ve changed your mind?”

“I…yeah. I have, I think,” Rick admitted.

“Why?” Gabriel prompted.

Rick ran his hands over the knees of his jeans, wishing he had something in his hands to distract him from the conversation. “Because the more I think about it, the more I think he may be right. He killed Glenn and Abraham. That can never be made right, or forgiven- I don’t know that I can ever forgive him for it. But…it was retaliation. It was revenge for what we did at the outpost.”

Gabriel noticed how Rick’s voice tightened at the mention of the outpost attack. “What do you think of what we did, looking back?”

“We were mercenaries. We killed all those people, I don’t even know how many, as a trade with the Hilltop. We’d had a couple run-ins with them before that, but we’d mostly gotten the upper hand on them. How can I say that what we did didn’t prompt some kind of war between us?”

Gabriel nodded, urging him to continue.

“I’ve made some bad calls, done bad things. So has he. I don’t know if it’s right to try to tally up all those decisions and try to come out on top. I don’t know that I would- I don’t think anyone can win in a situation like that, when you’re trying to justify killing people. I won’t ever be okay with losing Glenn and Abraham, but if it had been me, and he had come in with a bunch of his men and taken out twenty of our people like we did his…I can’t say that I would have stopped after two.”

Gabriel had to know that Rick meant that, too. He’d seen him in action. Seen what they’d done all that time ago back at the church, to the group from Terminus. He didn’t regret that, either- it was the right call, it had kept them all safe. At the end of the day, that was how he lived with the decisions he made- when it came down to it, he would choose the lives of his own over the lives of those threatening them, every single time. He didn’t have any qualms about it- it was a quality that was necessary, one that kept the people he loved alive.

“I know you, Rick,” Gabriel said “I know that the things you do, you do to protect the people around you. Because you care about them.”

Rick turned to look at Gabriel. “Yeah. Except that’s what he’s doing, too. He may not care about all the people there the same way I do with our group, but he provides for them anyway. They’re not a family, but he cares in his own way. He’s keeping people fed and sheltered and safe. A lot of people. He’s got a fucked up way of doing it, but he’s doing it. He’s trying to rebuild society, just like we are.”

“You’ve grown sympathetic toward him.”

It was such an understatement that Rick actually laughed. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because…because a lot of reasons.”

Gabriel laid a hand on Rick’s forearm. “Rick, I get the sense that you’re leaving a lot unsaid here. Which is fine, but if you want me to try to understand, you’re going to have to give me a reason to.”

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “A lot has happened since I’ve been there, stuff I haven’t told anyone because I didn’t think they’d understand or because it wouldn’t change anything.”

“Do you want to get any of it off your chest?” There was a long pause. “Anything you tell me will remain between us if you want it that way, Rick.”

Another long pause, and then Rick spoke.

“First off, it seems like pretty much everyone here seems to assume that he’s raping me. He’s not. He told me my first night there that that’s not the kind of man he was, and he’s proven to me that he was telling the truth over and over since then. He doesn’t do anything I don’t want, doesn’t force anything physical on me. There was a guy- one of his men- who tried to…attack me, and he killed him.”

“How did you feel? When he killed a man to defend you?”

“I…” Oh God, there were a lot of complicated feelings there. “I was grateful. He was so angry, I hadn’t seen him lose control like that before, but it didn’t scare me. He beat a man to death and it didn’t bother me, I- I was glad he did. I wanted to do it myself. If it had been me in his position, I would have done the same thing. Hell, I’ve done the same thing.” Rick’s mind immediately went back to the night on the road that felt so long ago now, when a man had tried to do the same to Carl.

Gabriel nodded. “That’s understandable. You were being attacked, you wanted to defend yourself. He protected you. He showed, albeit in a rather violent way, that he cared about you.”

That. That right there, that’s what Rick couldn’t comprehend: that Negan could actually care about him. But isn’t that what everything he did pointed to? Isn’t that practically what he’d said last night?

“Has he done anything else like that?”

“Killed anyone for me?”

“Protected you. Stood by your side. Showed that he cared.”

“He…yes. There’s a lot of things. Little things. Things that I just…nobody would understand why he did them or why I would let him.”

“Like what?”

“He shot a walker that was on me when we were out on a run together. He practically carried me to the infirmary after that guy attacked me. He told his men to keep an eye out for baby stuff for Judith while they were out on runs,” Rick swallowed hard. “I…I saw something, when we were on a run together. This crib, the inside was a bloody mess-” he shuddered, “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, picturing that happening to Judith, had a nightmare about it and woke up crying and panicking and he…he comforted me. He held me and told me she was okay. There’s so much, these little moments where he’s caring and generous and I actually find myself liking being around him.” Rick felt his face flushing at the admission. He’d kept all of that to himself for so long, it was strange to share it with another person.

Gabriel was silent for a long moment and Rick risked a glance at him. He looked surprised, contemplative.

“He’s kind to you,” Gabriel finally said, “You want him to be able to change.”

“Yes,” Rick conceded. 

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why? Why wouldn’t I want him to change for the better? If we could somehow get to the point where we could work something out with him, something more mutual than this, something where we’re not under their thumb…why wouldn’t I want that?”

Gabriel smiled knowingly. “Oh, don’t hear me incorrectly, Rick. I’m not saying there’s no benefit to it. I’m just wondering why you, personally, want him to change.”

“I just told you.”

“I think there’s something else,” Gabriel replied, “I think you’ve been holding back during this whole conversation, and there’s another reason why you want him to be capable of changing.”

Silence. Rick didn’t know how Gabriel managed to work that out, if it was just him being particularly quick on the uptake or if Rick was just that obvious.

“Rick. From what you’ve told me, there is, in fact, a reasonable man somewhere inside of him. But you’ve also been talking a lot about how he behaves toward you, personally. I feel like, if you were coming here to just work out if he could be redeemed, you would be giving me something more to go on.” Another long silence from Rick followed his words. “You don’t have to tell me, Rick. But I think you should probably talk to someone about this. You seem rather mixed up, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“I slept with him.” And there it was, the confession. He didn’t feel much lighter for having said it.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows slightly, but didn’t seem overly surprised. “Why?”

“Because I wanted to. Because I…because he’s not who I thought he was, and I don’t hate who he turned out to be, even if I hate some of the things he’s done.”

“You have feelings for him,” Gabriel said, his calm voice unreadable.

Rick hesitated for a moment, instinctively wanting to deny it. Which would be stupid, at this point. Gabriel hadn’t given him a reason to want to lie. “Yes.”

“You want him to redeem himself because you want him to be someone you don’t have to feel guilty about caring for.”

Gabriel, for all his flaws, was a perceptive fucker. “I…yes.”

“You do understand, Rick, that the majority of people here aren’t going to be understanding. Even if, somewhere down the road, you and he manage to work something out so that the Saviors are no longer taking our supplies, people aren’t going to forget what he’s done.”

“I know! I know that,” Rick growled, scrubbing a hand across his face. “That’s why I came here. So you could tell me that this is a bad idea. To tell me I’m full of shit and that I’m insane for not hating him and that there’s no future where this works out.”

“I’m not going to tell you that, Rick. I’m not going to tell you there is, either. I don’t know if it’s possible. But if it is, it could save a lot of lives. The people here are unhappy, Rick, as I’m sure you know. They want to rally against the Saviors, form an alliance with the Hilltop and go to war.”

_War_. The word was heavy and terrifying, balanced in the air like the threat of a swinging axe. Rick knew that people were unhappy, but that…that was more than he expected.

“If you could stop that from happening, if you could use the relationship you have with him to put an end to that before it began…it would save a lot of lives, Rick.”

_Yeah_ , Rick thought, if.

* * *

Rick mulled over his conversation with Gabriel as he drove back to the Sanctuary that night. Going to war with the Saviors meant a lot of things- they were vastly outnumbered, even if they did manage to get the Hilltop on board. They’d need more people if they wanted to have even a remote chance of winning. He wondered if the people at the Hilltop had any knowledge of more groups that may have a vendetta against the Saviors.

And then there was the whole issue of what exactly a war between them and the Saviors would mean. People would die, on both sides. He knew that people would expect him to kill Negan. Hell, with the exception of Michonne, Daryl, and now Gabriel, everyone probably thought he wanted to kill Negan. From their perspective, why wouldn’t he? He’d killed Glenn and Abraham, subjugated them and stolen from them and humiliated him. Rick had killed people for much, much less. And yet… 

And yet, he didn’t want to kill him. It was stupid, irrational, and he knew that the feeling was based completely on his strange affection for him, which wasn’t a good reason to keep a dangerous, unstable person around, but there it was: he didn’t want to kill Negan. But what the hell was the alternative?

In Rick’s head, he saw a future where he and Negan could work together. One where they somehow managed to work things out peacefully and Negan didn’t have to die and…

_And what, Rick? He just steps down peacefully? You and Negan live happily ever after?_

Rick sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face as he parked the car and returned the keys, heading back to his room for the night. Yeah, alright, his plan sounded naïve and ridiculously optimistic. Gabriel had said that he could try to use his relationship with Negan to his advantage…that if Negan actually had come to care about Rick, maybe he would be willing to be reasonable. But there were still so many problems with that idea. Just because Negan liked Rick didn’t mean he’d be willing to dismantle his entire empire just to make him happy. And even if he did…where would that leave them? Rick, obviously, would have to be free to leave if their deal was off. So if he dissolved the half-your-shit deals with the Hilltop and Alexandria for Rick, he’d just end up losing him. It would be pointless, no gain for Negan, no incentive for him to do anything Rick asked.

Of course, Rick thought, there was that part of him, a part that seemed to grow every day, that reminded him that he didn’t actually want to leave Negan. The thought made his chest feel strangely tight and uncomfortable.

And that was a question Rick had to answer for himself: if, somehow, either through war or peaceful negotiations or some other way, Negan and the Saviors no longer had control over them, what would happen with him and Negan? Rick wouldn’t stay at the Sanctuary, of course, no fucking way. He missed his home, his kids, his family. Nothing was going to stop him from going back to them the first chance he got.

Despite that, he still wanted to be with Negan. Was it insane to hope that there could be a way from them to still be…whatever it is they were to each other, even after that? Would it be possible? Would Negan even want that, if Rick had forced him to give up everything else?

Rick pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind, not ready to deal with any of it. There was nothing he could do at this exact moment, and all he wanted to do right now was lie down and turn his brain off for a while.

And if Rick’s idea of turning his brain off included Negan fucking him senseless, well…that was alright.

Rick opened the door to his room, anticipation working its way into his chest. It’d been so long since he’d looked forward to something, and it felt nice. Even if that something was getting fucked by Negan.

Rick’s heart sank like a stone when he stepped into his room and found it empty. What the hell, Negan? They’d had an honest-to-god conversation with each other last night, all but admitted to having feelings for each other. This morning Negan had nearly agreed to let Rick stay with him…and now he didn’t even show up?

Rick was fuming as he kicked his shoes off in annoyance. He was about to pull off his shirt when he noticed something sitting on his unmade bed: a note. He paused his angry undressing to snatch the piece of paper up, quickly reading the spiky handwriting:

_Rick,_

_Since you took such a fucking liking to my bed, why don’t you sleep there again tonight?_

There was no signature, because it was unnecessary. A smile spread across Rick’s face and he ducked into the bathroom to brush his teeth, only to see that his toothbrush was gone.

Presumptuous bastard.

Rick made his way to Negan’s room on the other side of the factory, thankful when the guards didn’t give him a hard time, just letting him in wordlessly. Negan must have let them he was coming.

Rick stepped into the lavish room, and there he was, spread out on the bed in tight-fitting boxers that drew Rick’s attention exactly where Negan wanted it. Rick found that he didn’t mind.

“I knew you’d fucking come.” Negan’s face lit up when he saw Rick eyeing him.

Rick bit his lip to hold back the grin he felt trying to spread over his face. “Yeah, well. You stole my fucking toothbrush.”

Negan laughed and slid off the bed and into Rick’s space, hands settling over his hips and giving them a small squeeze. “I’m sure that’s exactly why you’re up here.”

Rick felt the strong urge to run his hands over Negan’s bare chest and trace the tight muscle there. “Oral hygiene is very important to me, Negan,” he murmured, trying to ignore the way a shudder ran through both of them at the sound of Negan’s name coming out of his mouth.

Negan untucked the back of Rick’s shirt and slid his hands underneath it, nails scratching lightly against Rick’s back. “Is that so?”

Rick hummed out an affirmative noise that came out more like a pleased sound, giving in and letting his hands roam over Negan’s chest. The corner of his mouth twitched upward when he felt Negan rumble out a happy noise deep in his chest and press closer.

“You know, Rick, I don’t fucking believe you. But if you’re so concerned with the oral aspect of things, I can certainly think of something we can do…” He trailed off, grinning down at Rick in that self-satisfied way he always did.

“God, you say some stupid shit.” Rick rolled his eyes and leaned up to close the gap between them, pressing their mouths together urgently. Negan responded by wrapping his arms tightly around Rick and walking him back to the bed, urging him onto it and crawling over his body.

“Maybe, Rick,” Negan murmured, his breath ghosting over Rick’s skin, lighting up nerve endings, “But I think maybe you don’t fucking mind.”

Rick couldn’t argue with him there.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! The time between chapters shouldn't usually be this long, I goofed a little this week with getting things ready in time. A million thank yous to Renchaos for being an understanding beta reader!

 

After that night, Rick- and his toothbrush- never moved back into his own room. The first morning after, he assumed that he’d be back in his room- not wanting to presume that Negan letting him stay a couple nights was an invitation to move in. He went back to his own small room for the night, but upon walking inside, found that his clothes were missing from the drawers. There was no note this time- Rick’s missing belongings sent the message loud and clear, and he made his way to Negan’s room, a question in his eyes when he walked in and saw the other man waiting for him, looking all too pleased with himself.

“You’re just moving me in here, then?” Rick asked, closing the door behind him and striding up to the bed where Negan lay sprawled out.

“Did you wanna stay in that tiny-ass room, Rick? Because if you’re really that fucking attached to it, I’ll consider spending my nights there. But I’m pretty sure my room’s a lot more comfortable,” Negan joked lightly.

“Were you gonna ask me if I wanted to share a room with you? You ever think maybe I want some damn time to myself? That I don’t always want you snoring my ear off?” Rick meant it teasingly, but he saw the brief flicker of doubt cast a shadow across Negan’s face before the other man pushed it away.

“I don’t fucking snore, Rick.”

“You do sometimes. If you roll onto your back.” Rick tilted his head and moved in closer to where Negan was seated on the bed. He didn’t…he didn’t actually think Rick wanted to stay in that room, right?

“I can put your shit back. You don’t have to stay here. Course you don’t fucking have to stay here. You know that. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Shit.” Negan muttered, standing up and starting to root through one of the dresser drawers, extracting piles of Rick’s clothes.

_Shit. He really does think that._

Rick made his way over to Negan and slipped his arms around the taller man’s waist, hugging him close. “Don’t be an idiot, Negan. I was joking. You tellin’ me you lost your sense of humor?”

Negan spun in Rick’s arms, the clothes abandoned and hanging haphazardly out of the drawer. “You wanna stay here, then? We gonna be fucking filthy cohabitating sinners?” He grinned, and as light as his tone was, Rick could see the genuine happiness in his eyes. It was strange, realizing that he could do something this simple and make Negan look like that.

“I don’t think it’s still called cohabitation if we’re married,” Rick pointed out.

Negan smirked down at him and lifted Rick’s chin up, bringing their lips together. “Maybe not, baby, but I can fucking promise you that it’s gonna be filthy. You mark my goddamn words.”

* * *

 

And that was that, Rick found himself sharing Negan’s room every night. It was…it was nice, he decided. He liked knowing that he no longer had to wonder whether or not Negan would be showing up in his room each evening. It was comforting, solid, stable- and sure, Rick thought, those were all things that he shouldn’t be associating with Negan, because their situation was anything but that. But he liked it anyway, liked knowing that there would be a warm body beside him every night, Negan’s arm tight around his waist.

And, yeah, the sex was a nice bonus as well.

Maybe Rick was imagining it- maybe it was a naïve, hopeful delusion, but Negan seemed to be…softening, just a bit. At least he seemed that way around him. He was still the same man as before, Rick had no doubt about that, but the more time he spent by his side, in his arms, talking to him like they weren’t at odds with each other- Rick realized that, deep down, there was the capacity for so much more there.

Almost all of Negan’s gentler, more human moments were directed at Rick or his other wives, but, seeing that, Rick was willing to take a chance and guess that there was potential for empathy toward others too. When he wasn’t burning people’s faces and cracking in skulls with Lucille, he seemed to almost be a reasonable man.

So, with that in mind, Rick decided to take a chance. Conduct an experiment of sorts to test the waters of what he and Gabriel had talked about. Preventing an outbreak of war between Alexandria and the Saviors wouldn’t come all at once, he knew that. He had no delusions of waltzing up to Negan and asking him nicely to release Alexandria from their current arrangement.

No, it would have to be slow. Gradual. He’d need to approach it gently, and Negan would need to take baby steps toward freeing them.

First things first- if they weren’t taking in supplies from other communities, the Saviors would need to start growing food themselves. It was something that Rick and Michonne had discussed starting up in Alexandria months ago, before the deal with the Hilltop, when their food supply started dwindling. In the months that he had been at the Sanctuary, they had started working on that- the season wasn’t ideal, unfortunately, as it was late autumn, but it was better to have it set up and ready. And there were plenty of plants that they could grow through the winter, if they did it right.

So, one day, Rick decided to broach the subject with Negan. They were both lounging in their room, Rick reading a book while Negan scribbled notes in a journal.

Now seemed as good a time as any.

Rick set his book down, bookmarking it carefully, and took a seat on the couch beside Negan, pressing warmly against his side.

“What are you always writing when you do this?” He asked, genuinely curious. He found Negan at this table most days, papers scattered around him, taking careful notes.

“Lot of different stuff. Keeping track of points, jobs, who goes where, what supplies we got and from who- shit like that.” Negan replied.

Rick wasn’t sure how to casually bring his idea up, so he just dove in. “So you don’t plant anything here? You guys don’t grow your own food at all?”

Negan shook his head and set the notebook down on the coffee table. “Nah. Don’t really fucking need to, you know. That’s what we’ve got you guys for, right?”

Rick bit back on his anger at that- Negan hadn’t said it in a particularly cocky way, but he didn’t need to. The reminder that they were relying on the goods taken from Alexandria and other communities was enough to get him a bit riled up, but attacking Negan was a good way to not get him to listen to what Rick had to say.

“You’ve got all that space out back, though,” Rick pointed out. “And plenty of people to work it. Farming’s not a bad job- I used to do it, at the place we were at before Alexandria. Got pretty good at it, too. I could even help out if you needed it, help get things started.”

Negan looked amused at that, his eyes drifting over Rick in a way that said he was interested in something other than farming. “I can just picture you, baby. Farmer Rick, workin’ the fucking land. You ever do it shirtless, babe?” He grinned lasciviously, tongue between his teeth as he draped a heavy arm around Rick's shoulders and pulled him in closer. “I bet you did, all hot and sweaty, tending to your fucking crops. Bet you looked damn good doing it, too-”

Rick gave a derisive snort. “You’re missin’ the point, Negan.”

Negan made an impatient noise, seeming to lose interest when Rick made it clear that this conversation wasn’t going to somehow turn into a mid-afternoon fuck on the couch. “What’s your fucking point then, Rick? That we should be trying to start a damn garden right as winter rolls in? We’re not exactly in want of food here, as I’m sure you’ve fucking noticed.”

Rick sighed, trying to reign in his annoyance. “I’m just saying, Negan- you can’t really have too much food, can you? Especially not these days. And what if we come up short? Food’s in short fucking supply at home. You don’t strike me as someone who would be content to rely on other people to keep things going and keep people fed.”

Negan’s eyes narrowed at that. “You saying you’re gonna start coming up short on pickups, Rick? Because that shit’s really not gonna fly. And I’d really hate to fuck up what you and I have going right now because your people can’t hold up their end of the bargain.”

Rick dragged a hand over his face, frustrated. “We’re not. We’re fine. I just- fuck, I don’t know. Thought it was a good idea.” He moved to get up off the couch, but Negan caught his wrist, pulling him back down.

“Shit. Fuck, Rick,” He sighed, his face softening. “I’m sorry. I’m being a dick. I’m not- it’s not a bad idea. I’m not saying no. I guess I just need to think about it. It’s never been necessary, but…I guess that doesn’t mean we don’t fucking need it, you know?”

Rick blinked, taken aback at Negan’s sudden change of heart. “So you’ll think about it?”

Negan looked at him a little ruefully. “Yeah, Rick. I’m not promising you anything, but I’ll fucking think about it.”

Rick couldn’t help but crack a small smile at that. “Good.”

* * *

For the first time since Negan had come into his life, Rick felt very nearly okay. There was still the lingering guilt and pressure of knowing what was going on in Alexandria, but for the most part, he was able to compartmentalize things, keeping his grief and worry separate from his feelings about Negan.

That feeling of contentment lasted about a week, coming to an abrupt, grinding halt when Rick walked through the front door of his house on one of his visits home to be greeted by a weary but determined looking group of his friends.

“What’s all this?” Rick stopped in his tracks in the doorway to his house upon seeing the large group of people gathered in his living room. Daryl was leaning against the far wall, and Rick was surprised to see Jesus standing next to him. Rosita, Tara, Eugene, and Aaron were scattered around the room. Carl sat on the couch next to Michonne, who got up to walk up to Rick when he froze, urging him inside.

“Good, you’re here. Rick, Jesus has some information for us. I think you’ll want to hear this.”

Rick nudged the door closed behind him and joined the others in the living room, coming to stop behind the couch and placing a hand on Carl’s shoulder in greeting.

“Carl, you alright?” He asked, more as a hello than out of actual concern- whatever this was, nobody seemed upset.

Carl tilted his head to look up at him from underneath the brim of his hat. “I’m good, dad. Everything’s fine.”

Rick turned his attention to Jesus, “You have information for us? About what?”

Jesus pushed of the wall and came to stand in the center of the room. “About the Saviors. Or, rather, a way we can fight them.”

Rick’s heart skipped a beat. “Alright.”

Jesus continued, “As you know, the Hilltop also has a deal with the Saviors. But they’re not the only ones. There’s another group, a large group, with strong people, with more weapons. I think that if we were to go to them, to appeal to their leader, they may agree to help us rally against the Saviors. To fight them.”

Distrust wormed its way into Rick’s gut. He’d been wary of other people for a very, very long time now, and after everything with the Saviors, he wasn’t keen on walking into unknown territory. The last time they'd turned to another group to seek help, it led to them attacking the Saviors' outpost, which led to...exactly where they were right now.

“How many people are we talking about?”

Jesus spread his hands in front of him. “I’m not sure of the exact number, but it’s a lot. Fifty, maybe more? And they’re trained, unlike the Hilltop. Combat ready.”

“And about the Hilltop,” Rick added, “Will they be involved? Is Gregory willing to work with us?”

“Uh. Well, I know Maggie and Sasha and Enid would be with us, obviously. Gregory…Gregory will take some convincing, I’m not going to lie. He’s a coward through and through, and even if the peace they have with the Saviors is tentative, war isn’t something he or his people are prepared for,” Jesus admitted, looking sheepish. “But I think we could help prepare them. We could train them, get them ready to fight. I’ve seen what this group is capable of. And Maggie and Sasha, they're ready. They're already there, working with those people. It's not too much of a stretch to think they'd be open to start training them, with or without Gregory's permission. Maggie's very nearly in charge at the Hilltop these days, anyway.”

Fight. As in  _ war _ . War between them and the Saviors. Rick felt his mouth go dry.

“Think about it, Rick,” Michonne spoke up from beside him, “We could rise up. We could fight them. The only thing stopping us before was the numbers, but if we manage to get the Hilltop and this other community on board, we could have a chance. We could all have a chance to be free again.”

Rick tried to squash down the panic rising in his throat. He would never be able to forget the last war between his group and another established community. The way the Governor had come crashing through the gates of the prison, how many people they’d lost, how they’d had to flee the wreckage of their makeshift home, separated for ages only to be reunited under even more dire circumstances at Terminus. 

And that had just been one community. Woodbury had nothing on the Sanctuary, not even remotely. Rick had seen it, the sheer size and number of people. Who was to say how many more outposts there were? And with the Saviors collecting supplies from three communities, they were well-equipped to take on any threat that came against them. Even with more people to fight alongside them, taking down the Saviors seemed like an insurmountable task.

And then there was the question of what would happen to Negan if they managed to win…

“Rick? You’re not saying much. You want to tell us what’s going through your head?” Michonne’s voice pulled Rick out of his thoughts and back into reality, where the small group was looking to him. Looking to him to say yes, to tell them to rise up and go to war, to fight despite the odds, like they always had.

He wasn’t sure if he could give them what they wanted.

“I…I don’t know.” He said, meeting Michonne’s eyes and trying to convey his fears to her.

“This is bullshit! I told you guys he wouldn’t want to do it. I’m telling you, we don’t need him! We can do this ourselves.”

Rick’s head snapped to the source of the outburst: Rosita. She’d stood up from where she was seated by Tara and was glaring angrily in Rick’s direction.

“I’m not sayin’ no. I just…I don’t think any of you understand what we’re up against here,” Rick began, only to be cut off by Rosita.

“Bullshit, we don’t understand! I was there. Me, Eugene, Michonne, Carl, Daryl, Aaron…we were all there that night. We know what they are, what they’re capable of.” Her eyes were fierce, but Rick could see the flicker of pain in them- she was still thinking of Abraham.

“Then you should know that it’s not as simple as just getting a group together to fight them," Rick reasoned. "I’ve been there for months, I’ve seen how many people they have just in the main compound. And there are other outposts, who knows how many. Now that we’ve taken down one, they’re sure to be more heavily defended, too.”

“You know what this sounds like to me? A bunch of excuses. Jesus just dropped a whole new group of people to fight with us right into our laps, and you still want to roll over and be Negan’s bitch.” Rick’s jaw clenched at her words. He was used to Negan’s men referring to him in that exact way, but not his group. Not his friends, the people he thought of as his family.

Michonne took that as an opportunity to step in. “Rick doesn’t want to take on something we can’t handle. He doesn’t want to lose anyone else.” She placed a hand on Rick’s arm. “Rick, I understand that. I do. It took me a while to understand why we didn’t fight back immediately, but I get it now. We couldn’t. But we can now. I know we can. This thing with the Saviors…it’s not going to be long before it gets ugly again. It could just take one wrong word, or someone stepping out of line…and we could lose someone else. We can’t live like that.”

She was right. He knew she was right. But still, the fear lingered.

* * *

In the end, Rick had agreed to give it a shot. Jesus led them to a place in the opposite direction of the Hilltop, a place he called the Kingdom.

The Kingdom was…unexpected, to say the very least. In retrospect, when Jesus told him the name it probably should have indicated that things would be a bit odd, but Rick was pretty sure that nothing could have prepared him for the things he’d seen today.

It had started out innocuous enough. A solid, walled community. From what they saw as Jesus led them inside, there were indeed a lot of people. There were gardens, groups of people that looked to be as young as eight or nine practicing archery, people in armor running laps in organized groups. Rick had to admit, it was impressive. There were horses there, too- it seemed that they'd managed to wrangle a few and were using them as an alternative to driving cars and scavenging for fuel.

And then they met the man in charge.

The Kingdom was based around an old elementary school, and the leader-  _ King Ezekiel _ , as Jesus had informed him- had been waiting for them in what looked to be the auditorium. On a stage, seated on a throne, four figures standing nearby. With a tiger- an actual, living, breathing  _ tiger _ , laying at his feet.

Rick hadn’t known what to think of him. Hours later, driving back to the Sanctuary, he  _ still _ didn’t know what to think of him. He’d spoken in a strange, affected way that reminded Rick of old King Arthur films, he’d had people referring to him as “your majesty”, and, yeah, okay, Rick was still having trouble getting past the tiger. He couldn’t help but think, with some bitterness, that his people were scraping by for food in Alexandria, and yet this man had enough to keep a tiger well-fed.

He hadn’t brought that up, though. Felt that seemed a bit too confrontational for a first meeting. Especially a first meeting where they were trying to form an alliance.

Even more interesting than the discovery of the tiger had been the instant recognition that had flooded Rick when he’d caught sight of one of Ezekiel’s right-hand men:

Morgan.

He hadn’t seen Morgan in months, since right before the night they’d met Negan. He had parted ways with the group to try to find a missing Carol, and seeing him alive again had been an enormous relief. Rick, admittedly, had assumed that he’d died, but he was thrilled to be proven wrong.

As it turned out, Ezekiel hadn’t been too keen on going to war. He’d resisted, been initially angry that Jesus had told Rick about their deal with the Saviors at all. But, i n the end and after some appealing and cajoling, Ezekiel had told Rick that he would need time to mull things over. He had admitted that, while initially he and the Saviors had had a rather peaceful arrangement, recently things had turned violent, and two of his men had died as a result. He wasn’t keen on war, he made that abundantly clear, but he understood that sometimes drastic steps needed to be taken.

When Rick had assured him that they had time, that nothing was happening immediately, he’d seemed pleased. They had parted ways with the agreement that Ezekiel would send someone to Alexandria, accompanied by Jesus  _ “In two day’s time”, _ to discuss his decision with Rick and the others.

Rick, for one, had come away with a sense of relief. Nothing was happening now, he still had time. Time to figure out what the fuck to do, how to work out some way that this didn’t end with everyone he cared about dying.

The rest of his group had been less than thrilled. He could still hear Daryl’s voice ringing in his ears, repeating the words he’d left Rick with before he’d left Alexandria:

_ “I know you don’t want to hear it, man, but this is the way it has to go. I remember what you said before, about him. And I get it. I’m tryin’ to, anyway. But you can’t let the shit cloud your damn judgment here.” _

Guilt ate away at Rick as he thought of all the things his friends had endured while he’d been at the Sanctuary. The fear every time the Saviors showed up to collect, the collective worry that there wouldn’t be enough food, enough ammunition, enough anything left over once they took their fill.

And here Rick was, driving back to be with the man responsible for all of it.

* * *

It was late when he returned to the Sanctuary, night long since fallen. The factory had a certain creepiness to it at night that left Rick on edge, the empty, concrete halls seeming tomb-like without the bustle of people working within them. Negan was still awake when Rick made his way to their room, reading under the flickering glow of candlelight. He bookmarked his page with a spare scrap of paper before standing and addressing Rick.

“You were gone a long fucking time, Rick.” He said, taking Rick by the arm and tugging him in close. He didn’t seem mad, and Rick didn’t exactly have a set curfew, but this was certainly the longest he’d been gone before.

“I, uh. I went out on a run with Carl. Got caught up with some walkers, got back later than normal.”

Negan’s eyes swept up and down his body, leaving him feeling stripped. “Got caught up on a run? You look like you spent the day with your feet up eatin’ bon-bons, Rick. All clean and sweet-smelling.” His lips brushed the curve of Rick’s neck, and Rick shuddered against him.

“I, uh. I took a shower there. More water to spare.” He murmured.

_ Please buy it, please buy it, please- _

Negan huffed out an amused sound in his ear. “You gettin’ yourself all nice and ready for me, Rick?” He purred, one hand sliding down Rick’s back to press their hips together. “You know I don’t mind you showering here. I prefer it, in fact. That way I can just jump right in with you, get you clean before we get dirty.” He gave Rick’s ass a quick squeeze, and Rick’s breath caught in his throat.

“I’ll remember that next time.” Rick breathed. And then he was being nudged backwards until he was sprawling on the mattress, his head at the foot of the bed. Negan crawled after him and pinned his wrists down against the mattress, something hungry stirring behind his eyes. His breath tickled Rick’s neck as he began to make short work of Rick’s clothes, tugging them off and tossing them to the floor.

Rick was more patient- or, if he was being honest, he liked teasing Negan every chance he could. He stilled Negan’s hands when the other man moved to started stripping his own clothes off, a devilish smile on his lips. “Let me do it.”

Rick liked how Negan’s eyes darkened at that, how his hips ground down seemingly of their own volition, the coarse fabric of his pants dragging deliciously against Rick’s naked flesh, making him groan. He took his time getting Negan undressed, relishing every brush of fingertips against newly exposed skin. He palmed Negan through the thin material of his boxers, feeling the heat radiating from him, tracing the shape of his cock through the fabric and licking his lips unconsciously. He drew Negan down to him, sliding his hand beneath the waistband.

“Can’t fucking wait to get this inside of me.”

Negan shuddered, hips bucking into Rick’s palm as he was stroked.

Rick noticed how Negan tried to match his pace with what followed. He wasn’t sure if it was because Negan also liked drawing it out, or if he was doing it to please him. Either way, he didn’t mind- he definitely didn’t mind the way Negan eased him onto his stomach, how he leaned over him, kissing his shoulders wetly as slick fingers circled his opening, rubbing and dipping in shallowly, pulling soft, needy whines out of him.

It wasn’t until Negan had two slick fingers buried deep inside of him, curling and stroking, that the pace picked up. Rick got impatient first- desperate for Negan to find that spot inside of him that he seemed to be purposely avoiding. He raised up to his knees, pushing his hips back and fucking himself on Negan’s fingers until he found the right angle, crying out loudly when he succeeded.

Negan practically purred behind him, watching Rick ride his fingers with avid interest before withdrawing them all at once and lining himself up with Rick’s entrance. "You ready for me, Rick?" He crooned.

Rick made a frustrated, needy noise in his throat and rolled his hips back. "Yes, _yes_. Want you, _please_ Negan."

Negan slid inside and then Rick was being pulled backwards so that he was in Negan’s lap, his back flush against Negan’s chest while Negan’s back rested against the headboard. The sudden unexpected change in position left him dizzy and disoriented.

“Wha-what are you…?”

Negan hummed an amused sound into Rick’s ear, and Rick shuddered against him. Negan’s knees slid in between his, splaying his legs apart even further. Warm breath tickled the back of Rick’s neck.

“Just thought we’d switch it up a bit tonight, sheriff.” Rick would have rolled his eyes at the nickname, but suddenly Negan was snapping his hips up and burying himself deep inside of Rick.

“F- _ fuck _ ,” Rick whined, and he could hear how needy he sounded already, how wrecked. Negan’s hands wandered up his body slowly, a torturous contrast to the quick rhythm his hips were setting. They slid up Rick’s inner thighs, teasing him before reaching between his legs to cup his balls and trace the slick place where their bodies came together. Rick’s breath left him, and then the hands were drawing lines up his stomach to his chest, running through the sparse hair there and pinching his nipples until they were pink and hard under Negan’s fingers. Negan’s lips were right at Rick’s ear, teeth nipping at the soft lobe.

“Look at you, Rick,” he breathed, “No, really. I want you to look at yourself. See what a pretty sight you’re making for me right now.”

Rick felt himself flush deeply, but he let his eyes flick down. Negan’s hands were still on him, one arm snaking around his waist and the other hand flat against his chest, holding Rick against his body as they fucked.

“You look so fucking delicious, I don’t even know what to do with myself. You’re so open right now…you’d make quite the sight if someone were to walk in on us.” Rick felt his face burning, and he closed his eyes, his head tipping back to rest on Negan’s shoulder as a moan worked its way through him. Negan purred happily into his ear, a low rumble, “You get so goddamn red when you’re turned on, it’s fucking hot as hell. You’re flushed all the way down to your chest right now, your legs spread wide open for me…” He dipped his head to lick at the curve of Rick’s neck, “And your cock is leaking everywhere, so fucking hot, I just wanna  _ taste _ it.”

And then Negan’s hand was on his cock, stroking and sliding, and Rick couldn’t stop the cry that escaped his lips. He grasped for something to hold onto, the sheets or the headboard or Negan, and then he was coming, shooting hot and wet over Negan’s fist as the other man stroked his dick and thrust up into him. Rick’s orgasm seemed to trigger Negan’s own, and then the man was gasping and groaning into Rick’s ear as he fucked into him more desperately, breathing out Rick’s name in between curses as he spilled inside of him, his arms wrapped around Rick’s middle and his fingers digging into skin.

Rick’s body melted back against Negan’s, his head lolling against Negan’s shoulder, their bodies slick and sticky with sweat. Negan drew his hand up from Rick’s cock to his mouth, licking away the evidence of Rick’s release from his fingers. Rick groaned at the sight, burying his warm face in the curve of Negan’s neck.

“Jesus, Negan.”

“Told you I wanted a fucking taste, Rick.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I realized that back when I was writing The Truth, we didn't know all of the wives' names yet, so when I described Frankie, I ended up just giving her a random name: Tess. I'm changing that here to avoid confusion, so Frankie's the same Frankie that she is in the show, and Tess is a different wife of Negan's.

Negan woke up to sunlight streaming through his window and a sleep-softened Rick nuzzling into his shoulder. He hummed a deep, pleased noise in the back of his throat and tugged the smaller man closer by the hips, enjoying the warmth. He closed his eyes again, fingers trailing light lines over Rick’s back and shoulders. He had to admit, it was nice, really fucking nice, having someone to wake up to again, the warmth of a body curled up next to him. Now that he had that back after so long, he could readily say that he’d missed it.

He peppered kisses to the top of Rick’s head, feeling the smaller man stir against him, waking up at the touches. “Morning, Rick.”

Rick made a small, sleepy sound in his throat and muttered out a “Morning, Negan,” in reply before making an attempt at going back to sleep, ducking his curly head further into the down of the pillow.

 _Cute, lazy fucker_ , Negan thought affectionately. He gave Rick one last kiss on his full lips before rolling out of bed, chuckling to himself at the noise of protest Rick made. Something pulled at him when he saw Rick grope at the empty side of the bed like he wanted Negan to come back.

And he wanted to. Oh, God, did he want to shirk everything and radio down to Simon to tell him he could be the big cheese for the day and crawl back into the warm bed with Rick, spend the day sleeping and fucking. He could picture it: a day spent just the two of them, no worrying about Rick needing to go out on supply runs for Alexandria, or Negan needing to tend to responsibilities at the Sanctuary. A lazy day in bed. The thought was so tempting that he felt himself take a physical step back toward the bed, but he caught himself and shook his head.

_Everything you’ve worked for, all the time you’ve spent building up the Sanctuary and the Saviors…and you want to ignore all that to cuddle. Fucking pathetic. Rein that shit in. He’s a good fuck, you like being around him, fucking fine. But don’t you dare get fucking soft._

He shook off the thoughts and headed to the bathroom, hoping the steam and hot water of a shower would help clear his head. Too often lately, he caught himself thinking about Rick almost obsessively, as if the man was the subject to which his mind defaulted. It was dangerous, he knew, to get attached like that. To anyone, really, but especially to Rick, whose heart resided with his friends and family in Alexandria.

Negan let his mind go blank, and for a few blissful minutes, the only thing he thought of was the way the hot water massaged the tension out of his shoulders and how goddamn thankful he was that he had people at his disposal to hook him up with hot showers.

Negan’s eyes were closed, but he felt the sudden rush of cool air against his heated skin as the shower door slid open. When he opened his eyes, Rick was standing in front of him, still sleep-softened, but now with the added thrill of being naked. Negan’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of him, and Rick stepped forward, pressing their bodies close and letting the spray of the shower soak him. He ran a hand through his damp curls, pushing them back away from his face.

“You don’t mind if I join you, do you? Didn’t get the chance to take one last night after, ah…what we did.” Rick grinned and reached for the shampoo- Negan’s shampoo, his preferred sandalwood scent- drizzling some into his open palm and working it through his hair. Negan smiled easily down at him.

“Not at all, baby. Any fucking chance to see you naked is more than fine by me.” Rick rolled his eyes at that, and Negan’s hands found their way to Rick’s hair, taking over where Rick’s left off. They went back and forth like that, lathering each other up, and Negan found himself wrapping his arms around Rick from behind, pressing open kisses to wet shoulders and inhaling the scent of clean skin. God, he could stay like this all day- just him and Rick in the cloudy haze of a hot shower, all slick skin and warmth. It was easy to imagine it was just the two of them in the world with how closed off they were, and the thought occurred to Negan: _I wouldn't mind_.

“Fuck, you smell like me,” Negan mouthed at Rick’s neck, making him shudder and rock back into the slippery body behind him. “Goddamn, that’s kinda hot, you know that?”

Rick reached back and slid his hand up Negan’s thigh, fingers dancing against wet skin. “I feel like I could do just about anything and you’d say it was hot,” he mused, and Negan chuckled low and deep into his ear.

“You’re kind of a cocky bastard, aren’t you?” He rocked his hips into Rick’s ass, the proof of what Rick said rubbing up against the smaller man’s back.

“I just call ‘em like I see ‘em, Negan.”

One of Negan’s arms wrapped around Rick’s waist while the other dropped lower, cupping him and grinning when he felt Rick’s half-hard cock twitching with interest against his palm. “Is that so, baby? Well, it seems to me like you’re pretty fucking into me, too.”

Rick moaned as Negan began to stroke him, instantly becoming pliant under Negan’s hands. Negan hummed happily, nosing at Rick’s wet hair.

Fuck it. It may not be a day in bed together, but it was a hell of a good way to start the morning.

* * *

Negan kissed Rick goodbye after they were both dry and dressed, cheeks tinged pink from more than just the hot water. He had to force himself to hold back, keeping the kiss a light peck instead of devouring the man all over again. They both had things they needed to get done today, after all. Rick was going out on a solo run- something Negan found himself increasingly more opposed to. He hated the idea of Rick going out alone, and he didn’t let him do it often. He was a big believer in the buddy system, but he’d promised Rick that he wouldn’t make him go on runs with his men anymore, and the drive to Alexandria was too long of a trip to make every day.

He’d considered offering Rick one of his men to take solely as backup, but that posed its own issues. Rick didn’t trust any of the Saviors, and would be unlikely to see them as anything but a threat. And as much as Negan had his trusted few soldiers that he knew wouldn’t let anything happen to Rick…he could only imagine the ire he would draw from his people if he started sending them out to help Rick gather supplies for Alexandria.

Not that they would be wrong to question it. Hell, he knew it didn’t make a lick of sense. Rick Grimes had a way of doing that to him, winding him up into making stupid, nonsense decisions that threatened to unravel everything he’d worked for. It scared the shit out of him.

What he needed, Negan decided, was a palette-cleanser. A little break from his favorite husband. It was only when he met up with Simon and a few others to draw up a schedule for the week and talk about improvements they wanted to start making to the Sanctuary that he realized that Rick was never far from his mind. Simon listened intently to his proposal, long fingers pressed together. “A… _garden_ , Negan?” He asked, voice just on the edge of incredulous. “You want to start farming? _Now_? When we have three communities bent right over for us?”

“Yes, Simon,” Negan spoke slowly, as if explaining why the sky was blue to an impertinent child, “A garden. We need to start growing our own food. How we haven’t done that yet is a huge fucking oversight, if you ask me.” The way Simon was looking at him- like this was a joke and he was waiting for Negan to deliver the punchline- was a bit insulting. “You think we have too much food, Simon? You like eating the- what the hell is it they were serving today? I caught wind of it walking here, and by the smell of it, I’d say it was some godforsaken cross between old creamed corn and dog meat.”

Simon snorted. “You worried about how the little guys are eating now, boss? Marriage makin’ you soft?”

Simon was joking- the two of them were close enough for him to do so, but it still riled Negan up, feathers ruffled indignantly- probably because it was a little too close to the truth. “I think you wanna be a little more careful of who you’re calling soft, Simon,” he bit out. “I’m trying to make sure we’re prepared for anything in case shit goes sideways with one of these communities. You remember how the Kingdom’s garden got infested with some parasite a while back? Yeah, that could happen again. I don’t want us sittin’ around with our thumbs up our asses because we’re relying on them for everything.”

Simon quickly backtracked, hands up in repentance. “You’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry, boss. It’s a good idea. We’ll get right on it.”

Negan sat back, pleased. “Good. Fuckin’ great.”

After the meeting with Simon drew to a close, Negan made his way to the room where his wives spent most of their time during the day. They were free to roam the Sanctuary, of course- Negan wouldn’t dream of keeping them locked up like prisoners, but for the most part they opted to stay in the lounge area he’d set up for them. The Sanctuary wasn’t the most scenic of places, and they had plenty to keep them entertained in the lounge: stacks of vhs tapes, shelves full of books, board games and cards, food delivered when they wanted, a small but well-stocked bar. He tried his best to keep them as content as he could. He took his job as their husband seriously, trying to keep resentment from brewing.

Of course, that all kind of went out the window when shit like what happened with Amber and Mark went down.  
He strolled into the lounge, met with nods and waves of greeting, and made a beeline for Amber, who was curled in an armchair, reading and sipping a glass of wine. He settled down next to her, and she hesitated a moment before setting her book down.

“Hey, darlin’. You doing alright?” He’d been more reserved with her since the incident with Mark, both because the cheating grated his nerves and because he knew that she was distraught over the whole thing. It had been a handful of weeks now, and he’d done his best not to press the issue, but if she was having second thoughts about her choice to stay with him, now was the time to speak up.

Amber took a small sip of her wine. “You always ask me that when you drop by these days,” she murmured.

“Well, I’m fucking concerned, Amber. If you regret choosing to stay here, if you want to go back to Mark…I’ll fucking understand, sweetheart. But you need to speak the fuck up and let me know.”

“I…I don’t regret it,” She said with a sigh. “If I wanted to go back to him, I would have done it before you burnt half his face off.” There was an accusatory note to her voice that he didn’t like, but he swallowed back his annoyance. Sure, she’d known exactly what would happen if she’d chosen to stay after cheating on him, but that probably didn’t make seeing her old boyfriend take an iron to the face any easier.

“So what do you need then, darlin’? You know I’m not about to ask you to do anything you don’t want to do, but I miss having you in my bed. And that’s…why you’re fucking here,” He reminded her, “I get not wanting to go back to working for points, but if you’re thinking you don’t want to fuck me anymore, I think we’re going to have to make some different arrangements. I really don’t fucking want anyone here who doesn’t want to be. You know that, darlin’.”

“I know,” Amber said, “And I do want to be here. I just…I feel guilty, letting that happen to Mark, while I’m still here…” She sighed. “I just need some time.

Negan nodded. “Alright. I can give you that.” He stood, letting her return to her book. “But Amber? Don’t you fucking feel guilty about that shit. We live in a hard fucking world. Don’t you ever feel guilty for putting yourself first. I’ve seen too many people live needlessly hard, shitty lives because they felt bad about about looking out for themselves.” Amber nodded, seeming to consider his words, and he left her with that, making his way over to the couch where Tanya and Tess were sitting and settling down between them. Tess stretched her legs out into his lap, and Tanya sidled up to his side.

“Been gone for a while,” Tanya noted, her hand finding his knee. “Over a week. You and your husband finally taking a proper honeymoon or something?” She and Tess wore identical teasing grins, and he threw his arms around both their shoulders.

“As a matter of fact, we fucking have.” Over a week? Was that really how long it had been? He hadn’t even realized it. A sudden thought came to him, completely unbidden: _It’s because you like Rick so fucking much. Because you know he likes you, too._

Tanya shot a gloating look over at Frankie from across the room. “I told you! I get to pick the movie tonight. I told you he was fucking Rick!”

Frankie groaned and stuck her tongue out at Tanya, while Negan stared between them, confused. “The fuck?”

“They had a bet going,” Tess explained, running fingers through her dark hair. “Tanya was convinced you were gone because Rick finally gave you the green light, Frankie said there was no way that was ever gonna happen.”

Negan barked a laugh. “Never underestimate my seduction skills, darlin’!” He called over to Frankie, and she responded by flipping him off, which only made him laugh harder. “Hey, I managed to convince all of you to fuck me, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but we’re not the leader of the group you’re terrorizing. And we’re just here for the benefits.” Sherry suddenly chimed in from her place in the armchair across from Frankie.

“What, you don’t count my dick as one of the benefits, Sherry? I sure as shit seem to recall a few times you enjoyed the fuck out of it.”

“It’s alright,” She drawled casually, “It’s obviously worth it if I’m still here, right?”

“I’m feelin’ awfully fucking attacked by you today, Sherry,” Negan mused. “You sure you don’t want a divorce? Trot right on back to Dwighty-boy?”

Sherry made a derisive sound in response to his teasing. “I think I’ll stay. But it’s only for the bourbon. Never could have afforded this shit working for points.” She snorted to herself. “Never thought I’d become a post-apocalyptic sugar baby, but here I am.”

Negan grinned wickedly and abandoned the couch, sliding over to Sherry and leaning heavily against the arm of her chair. “That’s pretty much what you are, isn’t it? Guess that makes me the sugar daddy. You gonna start callin’ me that, Sherry?”

Sherry barked out a laugh. “In your fucking dreams, Negan.”

“We’ll see. I’d rather try to get it in person, though. You wanna warm my bed tonight, darlin’?”

Sherry shot him an amused look. “Don’t call me that shit. And yeah, I’ll keep you company. You sick of your boy toy already?”

 _Far from it_ , Negan thought. But God knows he’d been spending too much time with Rick. Every moment he spent with the man, he felt himself getting more sucked in, especially now that he and Rick were…whatever it was they were. Their conversation a week ago wherein they’d discussed their feeling for each other had only intensified his feelings for Rick, and whenever they were together, he felt himself slipping dangerously toward something that he refused to give voice to. It had been so long since he’d had a relationship with another person like this, where the other party held a genuine affection for him that wasn’t motivated by fear or their own personal gain. Rick simply…liked him, and completely in spite of himself too. It was addictive, being around that genuine affection after so many years of closing himself off to it.

But Negan had other spouses, after all. Spouses that saw him as a job, but spouses nonetheless. And it wasn’t like they didn’t enjoy each other’s company in bed. His wives were gorgeous, and he knew that even if they were only with him for what he could give, they still chose to be here nonetheless. One night. He needed some time with one of his wives to put things back in perspective again. To untangle himself from the messy web of affection and confusion with some no-strings-attached sex. So he gave Sherry a devilish smirk.

“I’m hardly sick of him. But I like to switch things up, and I’ve been missing you girls. Rick’s ass needs a break from me, anyway. Poor thing’s been walking funny for a week.”

* * *

After deciding to spend the evening with Sherry, Negan slipped back into his bedroom for a bit, scrawling a quick note to leave for Rick:

_Rick,  
Giving your ass a break tonight. I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up. _

He stared at the note for a while, debating. He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to explain himself to Rick- he had to know that Negan was going to be back late some nights. He had to understand that he would still be spending some of his evenings with his wives, right? Rick knew they weren’t going anywhere.

He crumpled the note, shoving it into the pocket of his jeans. _No_ , he decided. The note was too much for what he and Rick were. Keep it light, keep it casual, that’s what he was supposed to be doing, right? And leaving him notes so that he didn’t…what, worry? It was too much. If Rick wanted to know where he’d been, he could ask in the morning. With that, he left and headed down a floor to Sherry’s room.

* * *

It was dark when Rick got back to the Sanctuary that night. He’d had a productive day, having come across a decrepit house with a cellar that held jars of fruit preserves and canned vegetables.

He left his haul in the car, as it was all but designated as his now, secure in knowing that Negan had warned his people off of pillaging the fruits of his solo supply runs. He always allowed Rick to return to Alexandria with the spoils, and even if half of what he’d earned was taken when it got there, at least he had the knowledge that he was providing for his people, even when he wasn’t there.

He made his way to Negan’s room, trying to ignore the way he actually looked forward to seeing the other man. He wasn’t entirely sure when that had started happening, him enjoying returning to the Sanctuary to find Negan waiting in their shared bed. And it had only intensified lately, after their discussion about how they felt about each other and the addition of sex to their relationship. Rick was humble enough to admit to himself that he really fucking liked having sex with Negan. The man knew what he was doing, and the blissful mind-wiping quality of it was nearly addictive. It was nice to be able to lose himself, even just for the brief time Negan was inside him- to have everything in him focused solely on the pleasure of being with him instead of worrying about the implications of it all.

Rick was surprised to find Negan’s bedroom- _our bedroom_ , he corrected himself- empty when he walked in.

Huh. He must still be busy. I guess it’s not that late.

He took a quick shower, rinsing off the sweat and dirt from the day’s run, and toweled dry in the still-empty room, dressing in boxers and a loose shirt. He wandered around the room for a few minutes, scouring the bookshelf in the corner for something to read. He settled on a classic- one of his favorites, The Great Gatsby, and curled up in bed, diving into the story.

It was when he’d gotten about a third of the way through the book that he checked his watch. He wasn’t completely sure of the accuracy of it, but he knew it had to be at least relatively right, and according to the numbers, it was a little past midnight. Rick’s stomach gave a disappointed swoop. _He’s not coming_ , Rick realized. The thought sat about as well as a stone in his gut, heavy and sinking. _He’s with someone else._

Rick did his best to swallow down the bitter taste of jealousy on his tongue and closed his book, making a note of his page before setting it on the nightstand. He turned out the lamp and curled into himself on the bed, trying not to think about how empty it felt without Negan’s warmth pressed against him.

_Go to sleep. You knew this was going to happen eventually._

* * *

Negan wasn’t sure how late it was when he finally took leave of Sherry’s room, silently slipping through the halls until he was at his quarters. It was dark when he stepped inside and closed the door quietly behind him, careful not to wake Rick, whose sleeping form he could roughly make out in the pitch darkness of the room.

Negan stripped down to his boxers, sliding into bed beside Rick and nuzzling in close, arm gingerly sliding around him in hopes of not disturbing him.

His efforts to keep quiet were futile though. Rick was a light sleeper, and as soon as Negan slid into bed behind him, he stirred in his arms.

“Negan?” His voice was rough and groggy, pulled out of slumber. Negan cursed himself but took advantage of him being awake and pulled him closer, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of his neck.

“Yeah, baby. Sorry I fucking woke you up.”

“It’s alright.” Rick’s voice sounded distant, and Negan frowned, looping one leg over the smaller man. The situation seemed all too familiar suddenly, and Negan, to his shame and horror, recalled having almost this exact conversation with Lucille once, all those years ago. That was something he still couldn’t reconcile to this day- that even back then, before the world was in its current fucked-over state, he had been a piece of shit to the love of his life. Even after he’d called it off, even after Lucille had forgiven him and let him stick around, the guilt of having cheated on her wore away at him like stones in a riverbed. He tried not to dwell on it very often- tried not to let himself wallow in the sticky swell of grief that rose up whenever he thought of Lucille, but there were times that he couldn’t stop himself. It was those times that he wondered if that wearing away would someday turn him into something smooth and usable, something better, or if it would just eat away at him until he was sand and silt to be washed away by the water.

“Something wrong, Rick?” Negan asked, pushing away the thoughts with a flash of annoyance. This wasn’t the same. This wasn’t him cheating on Rick- it was how he lived. It wasn’t like he and Rick were _going steady_ or some ridiculous shit like that. They were having fun. Fucking. They had a good time together, liked each other, but that didn’t mean Negan had to drop everyone else for him.

Never mind that Negan found himself caring about Rick a hell of a lot more than he should.

“No,” Rick said, a little too quickly, and then, “You were with one of your wives, I guess?”  
There was something like hurt in his milk-and-honey voice, and it made guilt spread through Negan’s chest.

_No. What the fuck? Shut that shit down. He knows that they’re here to stay. He knows that they’re part of the deal._

“Yeah, I was. That’s not a problem for you, is it, Rick?” He tried not to sound like a dick about it, but there really wasn’t a good way to say ‘I’m sleeping with other people and you need to deal with it.’

“I…no. No. I know that’s how things are.”

“Are you jealous of them?”

Rick was quiet for a long moment, and Negan wondered if he was asleep or being given the silent treatment, but then Rick’s voice came out of the dark. “A little, I guess. Not used to…to sharing.”

“You knew they weren’t going anywhere, Rick,” Negan pointed out gently. He felt Rick tense at that, wriggling away from him a bit.

“I know. I do know that, Negan. Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” His voice was sharper now, and Negan felt it cut him. “I’ll deal with it. But you can’t ask me to pretend I’m okay with it.”

There was something in his voice, under the sharpness. An underlying current of something like _hurt_ that made Negan feel abashed. Negan sighed and pulled Rick into him, holding him tight, both arms wrapping around his waist while one hand slid under his shirt to feel the warmth of his skin. “I…” He cut himself off, very nearly chickening out of what he was about to say in favor of just letting Rick deal with it on his own, but he shoved that impulse away. “You know I care about you, Rick. Me sleeping with them doesn’t change that, doesn’t make it any less true. You’ve said it before, what me and them have is…an exchange. We have our fun, and I’m not going to pretend I don’t like fucking them, because I really do,” He felt Rick stiffen at that. “But Rick…you can’t possibly think that changes anything with us. You know…you know how I feel about you. Don’t you?”

Rick relaxed against him, just slightly. “Yeah. I do.”

Negan smiled and closed his eyes. “Good. Fucking good. And Rick…I still end up beside you every night. If nothing else, you know it’s got to fucking mean something that I always end up with you when it’s all said and done.”


	4. Chapter 4

Rick woke up the next morning with an anxious pit in his stomach that had nothing to do with what happened the night before. Yesterday had been the last day of Ezekiel’s waiting period, and today, when Rick went to Alexandria, he’d possibly be walking into a war counsel. The thought made him squirm, drawing his attention to the man behind him, which only further complicated his worry.

He shouldn’t be taking Negan into account when he thought about the possibility of war, at least not in the way that he was. He _should_ be thinking in terms of how to hide all of this from him, how to best manipulate him and use their closeness to Alexandria’s benefit. But when he rolled over in Negan’s arms, felt the way the man’s grip tightened around his waist even in his sleep, saw how peaceful he looked when he wasn’t donning his usual veil of smirks and sarcasm…Rick knew that he wasn’t going to be able to do that. He was willing to do a lot. Even now, with his near-crippling fear of losing more people and his complicated feelings for Negan, he was willing to fight for Alexandria if there was a chance of them being able to win back their freedom from the Saviors. He was very much willing to put his life on the line to defend the lives of his family, to secure a better world for them to live in.

But looking at Negan, he knew that he couldn’t use whatever it was between them as a weapon of war. The thought terrified him, but even worse was the thought that people would want him to,  _ expect _ him to. And they should. With the exception of Michonne, Gabriel, and Daryl, nobody back in Alexandria knew the turn his relationship with Negan had taken. They would all expect him to want to use everything he had against Negan, and he could understand why. Hell, Michonne and Daryl probably expected the same of him: for him to come to his senses and realize that this whole endeavor with Negan was fleeting and impermanent.

And maybe it was. At this point, Rick didn’t see how it could be anything more. Even if Ezekiel turned them down today, he knew Alexandria was ready to fight, and would do so with or without the Kingdom. Rick didn’t see a way around it: they were going to war with the Saviors, sooner or later. And whenever they did, a wedge would be driven between him and Negan, destroying the fragile thing they’d created together.

He hated that the thought of it hurt him. Made him pull himself a little closer to Negan, dig his fingers into his back and breathe in his warm scent.

_ I’m going to fucking miss you when you’re gone, you bastard. _

* * *

Rick left the Sanctuary quickly that day, finding it hard to be around Negan when he was about to run off to plot against him with a bunch of people who wanted him dead. When Negan had kissed him goodbye, all slow and sweet and lingering, all he could taste was his own confusion and guilt.

Rick could immediately tell that Ezekiel’s people had already arrived by the horse whose bridle was tied to his front porch. She showed no signs of skittishness when Rick approached, and he smiled, walking in close to stroke the side of the animal’s neck.

“Rick. You’re here.” A familiar voice made Rick look away from the horse and up at the house, where Morgan had just stepped out of the front door. Rick’s smiled widened and he swiftly climbed the steps, pulling Morgan into an embrace. He was thrilled to see a familiar face.

“Morgan. So Ezekiel sent you?”

“He did. Me and someone else. Come on.” He urged Rick into the house behind him, and Rick followed, closing the front door behind him. Once again, there was a gathering in his living room. All of them were familiar faces, but one stood out among the crowd.

“C- _ Carol _ _?”_ Rick asked, incredulous. To say he was shocked to see her here was a massive understatement: when she had disappeared months before, having apparently taken her leave of Alexandria, Rick had feared her dead. When he’d seen Morgan for the first time at the Kingdom, he’d thought those fears had been confirmed, as Morgan was the one who had insisted on continuing to look for her without Rick’s help. Seeing her now, one of his most time-tested companions, he wanted to cry with joy. As it was, he rushed forward, wrapping her in an embrace that she readily returned. “I thought you were dead. Morgan and I- we went looking for you…when he didn’t come back, I thought…”

Carol squeezed him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry that I…that I left how I did.”

“Why did you?”

“I couldn’t- I couldn’t keep doing it, Rick. The killing, it was killing me. I thought if I left, if it was just me, I could avoid it. Wouldn’t have to do it anymore, because everyone here…I kept going, kept doing these things to protect them. I thought if I left, I could distance myself from everything, and it would be easier. But then Morgan found me, nearly dead because of one of the Saviors. He saved my life, and then Ezekiel’s men found us. Gave us shelter.”

“Why’d you come back?” He asked.

“I found out about Glenn and Abraham,” she said, her eyes suddenly swimming with sadness and a resolute ferocity. “Ezekiel and I have gotten close over the months. I know about his deal with the Saviors, how it was mostly peaceful at first. I’d hoped that was how things were here, that everyone was okay, but he mentioned you coming, and I asked him if…if you’d mentioned losing anyone. He told me their names and I…I knew I couldn’t stay out of this. They were my friends. So I’m here. I’m with you.” She pulled back, looking Rick up and down with an intense gaze that left Rick feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. “They told me about…about everything else, too. About the deal you made with Negan. Are you…is he hurting you?”

Rick could only hope that his face wasn’t burning half as badly as it felt like it was. “No. He’s not, Carol, I’m alright. Really.” Carol’s eyes searched him imploringly, and Rick let her, pleading silently for her to see that he was telling the truth. Over her shoulder, Rick noticed Michonne and Daryl looking subtly uncomfortable.

Carol accepted his answer with a nod. “Good. Because if he was hurting you, Rick, I swear, I’d cut his dick off.” The intensity of her voice and the implication made Rick’s eyes go wide. She very clearly meant it, her blue eyes dancing with a vengeful fire.

She squeezed his hands tightly between her own. “We’re going to bring you home, Rick. We are. Ezekiel sent me and Morgan to tell you that we’re ready to join you in a war against the Saviors.”

* * *

The meeting didn’t go into specifics, not just yet. They mostly discussed resources- people, weapons, and fortification in case of a counter attack from the Saviors. The Kingdom was, thankfully, well stocked with both weapons and trained soldiers, and fortified similarly to Alexandria. While their numbers were now closer to those of the Saviors’, they still needed more. It was Rosita who spoke out and suggested they try seeking help from the Hilltop as well.

“Maggie and Sasha will want to fight. You all know they will. From what Jesus has told us, Maggie’s practically in charge there now. If we were to meet with them, they would fight with us. And they'd be pissed if we took on this asshole without them.”

And with that, it was decided that the next time Rick came to Alexandria for the day, they’d take a trip to the Hilltop to meet with Maggie and Sasha. That was the first thing since he’d seen Carol that actually had Rick smiling: he hadn’t seen Maggie or Sasha in months, since before they'd left for the Hilltop and decided to stay. While Jesus had kept everyone in Alexandria informed about their well-being during that time, Rick was still anxious to see them in person and make sure they were alright. Maggie in particular had been in bad shape the last time he’d seen her, between the grief of losing her husband and the stress of the complication with her pregnancy, and he hated that it had taken him so long to check on her in person.

After a few hours of planning, everyone took leave of Rick’s house, giving him some much-needed space. Most of them followed Carol out to see her off before she returned to the Kingdom, but Morgan lingered in the living room with Rick, his eyes warm and wise as he watched Rick.

“Something’s goin’ on with you,” He said in that easy, observant way he had. “That whole time we were talking, every time someone mentioned killing Negan…you looked strange. Almost like you were scared. You wanna tell me what that’s about?”

Rick swallowed hard. “I thought you didn’t want to kill him. The whole meeting, you were saying that you wanted to keep the body count down, on both sides.”

“I do. But you’ve never had those same reservations. Not since I’ve known you. You’ve never hesitated to remove someone from the picture if they threatened the people you care about. And Negan has most certainly done that. You’ve killed people for a lot less. So why the hesitation?”

“It’s not…you ever think that maybe I changed my mind? Came around to your way of thinking? You’ve wanted me to for so long, why are you questioning it now?”

“Because it’s not like you, Rick. The Rick I know would have wanted to kill Negan. From what everyone told me, after he…he did what he did, to Glenn and Abraham, you threatened to kill him. So you can’t fault me for wondering what’s changed since then.”

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t. Every time he said it, it felt harder to admit.

“He’s not hurting you.” Morgan said, echoing what Rick had told Carol earlier, a weight behind the words like he was dissecting them. It made Rick want to squirm.

“No.”

Morgan nodded as if he understood. There was no way he could, Rick thought. There was no way he guessed the actual situation, but he clearly was on to something. He regarded Rick carefully for another moment before placing a hand on Rick’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to say why, Rick. You don’t have to explain yourself, not to me. Like you said, I’m against killing him, too. I built that cell here all those months ago for a reason. I did it in hopes that one day, when we met a man like Negan, we could show that we were different. We could start rebuilding society, showing mercy and reclaiming our humanity. This could be the start of that.”

Rick let out a shaky breath, feeling relieved. He didn’t have words to thank Morgan for his support, but he was overcome by a rush of gratitude anyway. Morgan dipped his head and made to leave, stopping short in front of the door.

“I meant what I said, Rick. I’ll support your decision, and you don’t have to explain yourself to me. But the rest of these people? They want blood. They want revenge, or justice, or some combination of the two. And they have every reason to. You may not have to explain yourself to me, but you’re going to have to justify the choices you make to them eventually.”

* * *

Morgan’s words rolled around in Rick’s head the whole drive back to the Sanctuary, and by the time he’d parked and was walking to Negan’s room, he was positively on edge. As if it wasn’t enough to be going to war with Negan, would he really have to explain himself to his people? He thought of the rage in Rosita’s eyes, the boiling hatred in Carl’s when they spoke about Negan. He thought of trying to explain himself to Maggie and Sasha, who had lost the men they loved because of Negan.

It was either kill Negan or try to find a way to justify keeping him in a cell. Would anyone even believe him if he told them that it was for Morgan’s “reclaiming their humanity” reason? Would anyone support him, or would they fight him every step of the way?

And even if he did manage to get people to accept imprisoning Negan…could Negan be trusted to keep his mouth shut? As gentle as he was with Rick now, in the face of betrayal and imprisonment…Rick knew he wouldn’t hold back. He could so easily hear it: Negan, telling anyone who came near him the explicit details of their time together.

_ “I know just what your man likes, Michonne. He ever tell you that I had him begging for it? That’s right, Rick fucking Grimes laid himself out on my bed and begged me to put my dick in his ass…” _

He’d tell everyone, and maybe some of them wouldn’t believe him at first. But they would start to over time. They’d see the shame in Rick’s eyes and they’d start putting the pieces together. Already, even now, he knew there were a good number of people in Alexandria that he’d lost the respect of after his initial submission to Negan. Hearing that Rick had given himself over to Negan in every possible way would only confirm suspicions they’d already had.

His bleak mood persisted all the way back to the Sanctuary, and for the first time in a while, he dreaded having to spend the night by Negan's side.

* * *

Negan’s face lit up when Rick walked into their room. He immediately sprung up out of his chair and wrapped the smaller man in his arms, anxious to get him stripped and into bed. Just one night apart had left him craving Rick’s touch more than he would like to admit.

Rick’s mood from that morning seemed to have worsened, unfortunately. He’d seemed tense and unhappy from the moment he’d woken up, and had been curt and distant from Negan before he’d left. Negan could only assume it was some lingering jealousy from the night before, and he was eager to remind Rick just how much he enjoyed his company.

“Hey, gorgeous,” Negan purred, winding himself around Rick and slipping in close. “You still mad at me about last night? Because I can promise you, I’ve got a lot of ideas on how to turn your fucking mood around. I was thinking you’d like to take out all that frustration on me. What do you fucking say, Rick? You wanna be on top tonight?” He grinned, ducking his head to nose at Rick’s neck. His hands dropped below Rick’s belt to grope at his ass through the rough denim of his jeans, and Rick jerked away, avoiding his eyes. Negan immediately released his hold on Rick, cold fear knotting in his stomach. He remembered the last time Rick was like this with him- the morning after they’d slept together for the first time. He’d let his guilt take over, and had ended up yelling at Negan to get out. Negan had really thought that they were past all that.

“Baby,” Negan cooed, watching from a safe distance as Rick sat heavily on the edge of the bed, “Did I fucking…did I do something?””

Rick stared at his hands, and Negan waited, trying to be patient. He knew sometimes it took Rick a while to get his words out in moods like these, and the last thing he wanted to do was keep pushing until the other man shut him out completely.

“Is this...about yesterday still?” Negan asked cautiously. “About my wives?”

“I…” Rick trailed off, looking at his feet. He seemed to be holding something back. “Yeah,” He finally said. “Yeah, I guess.”

Negan tested his luck by plopping down next to Rick on the bed. “You wanna tell me why it bothers you so damn much?”

Rick didn’t look at him. “I need to have a reason for wanting the person I’m...I’m sleeping with to not be sleeping around on me?”

“You knew what you were getting into, Rick. It’s not like I was fucking hiding it from you.”

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose, tension rolling off of him in waves. Fuck, was this really that big of a deal to him? He’d been the same way that morning, drawn and anxious and distant. “I know,” He said. “I know that. And I’m not asking you to stop sleeping with them. I just...have some jealousy issues, I guess.” He laughed bitterly to himself. “Never took myself for the jealous type before, but I guess some things just change you.”

“What things?” Negan prompted.

Rick was quiet for a long moment again. “There was...a thing. With my wife and a friend of mine. A good friend of mine. Back at the beginning, when I was in the coma. She thought I was dead, I know that. She never would have...hell, if she’d known I was alive, she wouldn’t have left the hospital when it all happened. But it happened, and when I found her and Carl again, she ended it...and I tried not to dwell on it, you know?” He said. “Tried not to hold it against her, or against him, or anything like that. Tried not to wonder if she was...comparing us or something. And she wasn’t, she wouldn’t have, but- and shit, this sounds so fucking stupid- but he’d been my best friend since we were kids, and he was always the...I don’t know how to say it without sounding like I’m in high school again,” Rick ran a hand through his hair, laughing at himself a little. “Lori was the first woman I’d ever been with- and Shane didn’t have that same problem. Guess I’m just...more insecure than I realized,” he admitted. “But I’ll deal with it.”

The knot of worry was suddenly replaced by a flood of guilt and Negan dropped his eyes, unsure of what to say to that.

“You know that I’m not...I’m not comparing you to them, Rick. There’s no fucking comparison to be made. What you and I have is...something else.” Rick nodded, not meeting his eyes still. It seemed like he was still holding something back, but Negan got the feeling that was all the talking Rick felt like doing tonight. “Is there anything I can do? Anything, Rick. I don’t want you to be miserable every time I come back late.” He hated that he cared so much, but it was true. 

“I don’t know. I don’t. I’m just…” Rick sighed. “I don’t know. I just don’t want to think for a while. I just want something to take my mind off of everything. Can you do that?” There was a delicious heat behind his words, implication burning behind his blue eyes, and Negan longed to reach out and take it, take him. But as much as he wanted Rick, he also, strangely, didn’t want to fuck him so he could forget about everything, so he could forget about Negan making him feel shitty. So instead, he stood up, taking Rick by the hand. Rick gave him a curious look.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on, Rick. I’ve got something I want to show you.”

* * *

When Rick told Negan to distract him, he’d had no doubt the other man would take that to mean “pound the shit out of me”, so why he was now being dragged through the moonlit hallways of the Sanctuary was beyond him. The only thing he could think of  was that Negan had some ridiculous place where he wanted to fuck him.

He was glad Negan bought that he was still jealous over last night. It had stung, that much was true, and he knew that his occasional feelings of inadequacy in that department probably did stem from what happened with Lori and Shane, but talking about all of that hadn’t remotely distracted him from what was actually wrong. He felt guilty, wanting to just use sex to forget about everything for a while- it could only be making things worse, really. But when he was with Negan like this- just the two of them, bodies close and warm, he was able to pretend that it was okay. The lack of shame he felt now scared him a little. All of that boiling self-loathing he'd felt for so long seemed to be ebbing away, and somehow, that made him feel better and worse all at once. 

Rick shivered as he was dragged outside, the thin material of his button-up not nearly enough to keep him warm on such a cool autumn night. Negan didn’t seem to notice, probably because he was so intent on urging Rick to follow him, their fingers laced together intimately.  “Negan, where the hell are we-”  He stopped short, boots skidding to a stop in the dirt when he saw it.

There, in tidy rows, were the beginnings of a garden, right there in the grassy back lot of the Sanctuary. Nothing was growing yet, but that looked to be soon underway: there were shovels and hoes and tools nearby, stacks of lumber sitting a short ways away. Squared-off garden beds had been erected along with trellises. Rick blinked, unable to believe his eyes.

_ Negan…listened to something I had to say? He took my advice? _

When Rick turned to look at him, Negan was positively beaming, rocking excitedly back on his heels. “Well? What do you fucking think, Rick? It’s the start of something real goddamn peachy, right? I thought on what you said the other day, and I decided you were right. Can’t hurt to start growing some of our own food too, right? You like it?”

Rick couldn’t withhold his approving smile even from Negan if he wanted to. “I do. This is great, Negan. It’s just…it’s a little late in the season, isn’t it? Do you know what crops you're going to try to grow this close to winter?”

“Call this the trial period, Rick. We’re just getting everything set up, tryin’ our hands at this.” He threw his arm around Rick’s shoulders, and Rick gratefully nuzzled into the warmth. “Over there,” Negan gestured to the stacked lumber,” We’re gonna build a shed to keep shit in, tools and stuff. We got a handful of people who know shit about growing shit, but don’t be surprised if I ask you for your sage fuckin’ advice from time to time, farmer Rick.” He grinned at Rick, who had tucked himself into the crook of Negan’s arm. “Shit. You cold? Here, give me a fucking second-” Negan removed his arm from around Rick, hastily unzipping his jacket and quickly helping Rick into it. Rick felt himself warmed by both the caring gesture and the jacket itself, which was warm with Negan’s body heat. “That better, baby?”

Rick nodded, still pressing close. “Yeah. Thanks. Aren’t you gonna be cold, though?” He nodded to Negan’s thin gray shirt.

“I’m perfectly fucking fine, Rick. We’re not gonna be out here much longer, anyway. Just wanted to show this to you. I thought it might cheer you up a bit. Was I right?”

Rick slid his hand back into Negan’s. “Yeah. I’m impressed. I was sure you were gonna ignore what I said.”

“You’ve got no fucking faith in me, Rick.” Negan muttered.

Normally, that would be true, but seeing this, seeing the proof that Negan was willing to listen to his advice and actually take it…it was more than he could have hoped for. Foolishly, just for a second, he let himself believe that this meant something more, that if Negan was willing to hear him out about this, he'd be willing to listen to him about other things, too. “I do, actually,” The words surprised both himself and Negan, and the taller man looked down at him with a gentleness in his eyes. “This was a smart move on your part, Negan. It’s nice to see you actually took me seriously.”

Negan squeezed his hand. “I always take you seriously, Rick.”

Rick snorted derisively. “Sure don’t act like it.”

“Fuck, fine. That’s fair, I guess,” Negan conceded. “I, uh. I’m not used to taking advice from other people, you know? Always figured it made me seem weak. Saw people get indecisive because they tried to make everybody happy, and it ended up doing jack shit for everyone in the end.”

“Listening to other people isn’t weakness, Negan,” Rick thought back to his own early days leading his group, the decisions he’d made out of fear or pressure from others. He’d grown a lot since then, as a person and a leader. “You can’t make everyone happy, and sometimes you have to do shit you don’t want to do, or that other people don’t want you to do. But you’ve gotta be able to hear people out.” Rick could feel the heat of Negan’s gaze on him, warm hazel eyes trying to read into his words.

“Maybe,” Negan simply said. “Now come the fuck on. I’m freezing my ass off and I want you to warm me the fuck up.”

They rushed back to their room, Negan ahead of Rick, eager to get out of the cold. When they got inside, Negan immediately pressed himself into Rick, mouthing at his neck with cold lips, and Rick laughed, feeling lighter than before. “You still need distracting, baby?” Negan purred, all honey and consuming warmth as he poured over Rick. Rick’s fingers found the hem of Negan’s shirt, pulling it over his head.

“I think I do.”

They stripped each other like they were starved for touch, clothes discarded on the floor as they kissed their way over to the bed. Negan’s words from earlier stuck in Rick’s mind, and he shoved Negan back, crawling over him when he collapsed onto the bed. He felt Negan’s hands smoothing up over his sides, the pads of his thumbs skimming over his ribs. Warm hands circled his hips and urged him down until their mouths met, wet and open, and Rick made a soft noise in his throat. When hands slid over the curve of his ass, squeezing gently, Rick chuckled against Negan’s lips.

“You trying to take over?”

Long legs encircled Rick’s waist and Negan nipped at the plush of his lower lip. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby. Now get the fuck inside me before I change my mind.”

Rick kissed him once more before reaching into the nightstand drawer- a task made more complicated than entirely necessary since Negan insisted on keeping Rick wrapped up in his legs and kissing his neck in a distracting manner. Rick half-fell across Negan’s chest, fumbling blindly until his fingers closed around the bottle in victory. “You’re really fucking difficult, you know that, Negan?” Rick cooed as he slipped slick fingers into the man under him. Negan huffed and groaned at the stretch, and Rick slowed his pace, trying to be gentle, thinking back on the slow, tender way Negan always worked him open.

“Fuck, Rick,” Negan ran his hands through Rick’s hair, “Been so fucking long since I let someone do this to me, you know that? I always said you were special, though. I knew you were, right from the fucking start. Just something about you, baby, makes me want to let you do whatever you want to me-  _ ah! _ Fuck, yes,  _ Rick! _ ” Negan’s hips pressed back onto Rick’s fingers, and Rick grinned, repeating the motion and trying to memorize the spot and the flushed look on Negan’s face as he bit his lip and took what Rick was giving him.

“You want more, Negan?” Rick drawled.

“I wanna take you for everything you’ve got, Rick," Negan purred, "I want it all. Get the fuck inside of me. Actually- wait a second.” Rick withdrew his fingers with a confused look, watching curiously as Negan leaned over the side of the bed, groping at the ground. Rick was quickly distracted from Negan’s antics by the sight of the other man’s backside, and he leaned in, giving it a rough squeeze before letting his teeth nip at the soft flesh. Negan barked a laugh that was muffled by the way he was hanging over the bed. “You know, when I tell you to kiss my ass, I don’t mean it literally, Rick, but I almost think I like that better.” Rick swatted playfully at the abused flesh, and Negan laughed even harder. “Baby, if you think  _ that’s _ gonna be some kind of discouragement for me to stop saying shit, you’ve got another thing comin’.”

“Get the hell up here you fuckin’ pervert. You want me to fuck you or not?”

Negan’s head popped back up, laying back on the bed and tossing something at Rick’s face.

His leather jacket.

“You cold or somethin’, Negan?”

A wicked smile ghosted over Negan’s lips. “Fuck no, baby. Just want you to put that on for me.”

Rick stared at him, amused. “You want me to fuck you wearing your jacket.”

“You look hot as hell in it, baby. C’mon.”

Rick’s tongue slid between his teeth, trying to hold back his laughter. “Say please.”

“Pretty fucking please, Rick.”

Rick obeyed, slipping the jacket over his shoulders and leaving it unzipped. Negan eyed him hungrily before settling back against the pillows, legs open and waiting. Rick leaned in close, covering the taller man’s body with his own and pressing Negan’s legs up until he could slide inside, a shuddering moan shaking out of him at the heat surrounding his dick. Negan groaned deep in his throat, hitching his hips to try to take more of Rick in. His legs wrapped Rick’s waist again, the squeeze of thighs mimicking the tight warmth surrounding Rick’s aching cock. Negan didn’t give himself or Rick time to adjust, immediately trying to move underneath Rick, and Rick laughed against kisses pressed to Negan’s chest, one hand coming up to the center of his chest to press him more firmly against the mattress.

“Stop that. You let me take control, I’m gonna set the pace.”

Negan nodded, and Rick began moving, setting a slow, torturous rhythm that left them both aching and desperate. Negan squirmed under him, arching his hips into grinding thrusts and seeking friction against his cock, trapped between their stomachs. “ _ Rick _ , baby,  _ baby _ , fuck, come on, don’t tease me.” He drew Rick forward, fingers tangling in soft curls, lips seeking lips as they moved together.

Rick picked up his pace, hands scrabbling at Negan’s thighs, sliding against sweat-slick skin. He felt Negan’s body tightening around him, drawing him in, and he moaned, soft and deep and shaking. “Oh, Jesus,  _ Negan _ -”

“ _ Fuck _ , baby. You feel so good, so fucking good,  _ look _ so fucking good on top of me,” Negan’s heels bounced against Rick’s ass, the futile pursuit of kisses long since abandoned, both of them panting hotly against each other’s heated skin. One particularly deep thrust saw Negan moaning and raking his nails down Rick’s back and Rick hissed at the pleasant scrape of pain, redoubling his efforts and grinding into Negan again and again until the man under him was whining.

“Fuck, shit,  _ Rick _ , fuck, baby-  _ yes! Rick! _ ” Rick felt Negan’s orgasm everywhere at once, in the sudden gush of wet heat against his stomach and the fingers biting into his lower back and the tight clench around his cock that sent him spinning over the brink after Negan, his hips bucking frantically into the taller man as he came apart inside of him. He wrapped his arms around Negan’s waist, raising his hips off the bed as he rode out his high and then melting against him, his heated forehead resting against Negan’s chest as he pulled out. He could feel Negan’s chest heaving under him, panting out labored breaths that matched his own.

“Goddamn, Rick,” fingers carded gently though Rick’s sweat-dampened hair, and Rick hummed appreciatively. “You never cease to fucking impress, you know that?”

Rick chuckled and started tugging the jacket off, the leather sticking to his sweat-soaked skin. He collapsed back onto Negan once it was off, laying on his chest and listening to the steady thrum of the other man's heartbeat beneath his ear. 


	5. Chapter 5

“So Maggie’s in charge of the Hilltop now?” Rick asked as Jesus drove them to the community. Originally, Daryl had suggested that Rick just meet them there, leaving directly from the Sanctuary, but Rick had shut that down. He didn’t want to take any risks on the off chance that one of the Saviors checked the mileage on the car he drove to Alexandria and figured out that he’d taken a detour. So he’d driven straight to Alexandria and then piled into a van alongside Jesus, Michonne, Daryl, Carl, and Rosita and they were now rumbling down the road to the Hilltop.

“She’s…basically in charge," Jesus replied. "She’s the one doing the work, really running everything and building the place up. But Gregory, he isn’t one to give up power so easily. He’s not too thrilled about Maggie coming in and showing him up, but the people like her better, and she’s more capable. So yes, she’s in charge, but you’re still going to have to act like Gregory has some pull in this.”

“Does he?” Rick asked, silently praying the answer was a resounding  _ no _ . In his brief dealing with Gregory before, he hadn’t gotten very far with the other man. It was their deal with the Hilltop community that led his group to slaughtering one of the Saviors’ outposts- their service in taking out what they had then thought was the entire group in exchange for food. Even then, Maggie had to be the one to convince Gregory to agree to the arrangement.

“I’m not going to say he doesn’t have any sway in their answer, because he does. There are people there that remain loyal to him first and foremost because he’s been there since the beginning. It would certainly be easier if you could get him to back you up immediately, but if he doesn’t, it’ll only be a matter of time before he caves to Maggie. She knows how to get her way.” Jesus said affectionately.

When they pulled into the Hilltop, gates closing behind them, they were greeted by Enid, who, as Carl informed Rick on one of his visits, left for the Hilltop shortly after Maggie and Sasha. She bounded up to them, her and Carl exchanging similar shy glances, standing close enough that their fingers brushed. Rick felt a dull pang of sadness in his chest at that, realizing that Carl was growing up fast, and he felt like he was was missing so much of it.

“Maggie and Sasha are already in Gregory’s office waiting on you guys,” Enid nodded to the grand plantation house in the center of the community.

“I told them we’d be coming by to talk today,” Jesus explained, “They must be trying to soften up Gregory before you come in.”

As it turned out, Gregory was not a man that was easily softened to the idea of war. In fact, when Rick and his group entered his office, he immediately scowled at them and then at Maggie, who was looking frustrated and further along in her pregnancy- her shirt stretched tighter than usual over the growing bump of her stomach.

“Ah, I see what all this is, Maggie. You come in here, trying to talk me down so your people can waltz into my office and ambush me! Well, I don’t think so. No ma’am. You can tell them to leave now. I won’t be hearing any more about this…this  _ mutiny _ nonsense.” Gregory waved Maggie off like she was paid help, and Rick felt a twinge of annoyance.

“They’re not leavin’. Not until you hear them out.” Maggie replied, voice stern. She turned to the group and waved them in. “Say your piece, Rick. He’s going to listen.”

“I believe I told you to see them out, Maggie.” Gregory grumbled, fumbling for the bottle of tequila on his desk and refilling his mostly-empty glass.

“We’re not leaving.” Michonne said, stepping forward. “We need the Hilltop. We need your support.”

“In a war that I want no part of! We have no interest in fighting your battles for you. I seem to recall that the last time you people tried to take on the Saviors, it didn’t go so well for you. In fact, I seem to recall that that little encounter is why Maggie and Sasha came crawling here in the first place.”

“We hardly came crawling, Gregory,” Sasha growled from beside Maggie. “You should be damn thankful we did come here. God knows that when the Saviors pulled that little stunt with the walkers a couple months back, you weren’t any help.”

Gregory shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Nonetheless, you people aren’t prepared for this kind of war. You don’t even know what you’re asking of me right now.”

“We know exactly what we’re asking,” Michonne countered. “And we are prepared. We have the support of another community, a large one, a  _ strong _ one. We have the weapons, we have the resources. And if the Hilltop joins us, we’ll have the manpower,” She looked at Gregory imploringly. “Do you really want to keep living like this? At the mercy of these people, hoping every week that you can scavenge enough? Hoping they like what you give them so that nobody else dies?”

“We’ve had a quite peaceful arrangement with the Saviors, I see no reason to-”

“Bullshit,” Rosita barked, arms crossed. “Jesus told us that Negan killed someone the first time he came here. Hell, he tried to have you killed! Do you not remember that? How we had to step in and save your sorry ass? You seemed pretty eager to have us take them all out after that.”

“Well, I didn’t know how many of them there were back then, did I?” Gregory cried, exasperated. He shot Rick a weary look. “Look, Ricky, I’m not unsympathetic to your situation, I’m really not! But if you want to get yourselves killed at the hands of the Saviors, you’re going to have to do it without me. My people aren’t prepared for this sort of thing. We’re a peaceful community, we don’t have a lot in terms of weapons, not many people have combat training or experience with fighting. We’ve been behind these walls since the beginning. In fact, the Saviors are doing us a service. They protect us, keep the area clear of the dead. I get that you and your people may not need that same protection, but we do.”

“We can offer that protection,” Rick finally spoke. “We can. We can train your people, teach them how to defend themselves, how to fight.”

“We don’t need that, I just told you, we have people protecting us-”

“And when the Saviors decide you’re not worth protecting?” Rick snapped, eyes locking onto Gregory’s. He was past arguing for the sake of a war alliance now. The people here…they deserved better than a leader who let them stay weak, relying on the mercy of stronger, more capable people to have their backs. It was reckless, irresponsible, dangerous. “Sasha said something about the Saviors pulling a stunt with some walkers?”

“Yeah,” Sasha chimed in, “They broke through the front gate one night, drove in a couple of cars with the stereos turned up to draw the dead in. The people here were damn lucky to have Maggie here to tell them what to do, because  _ he _ -” Sasha’s eyes spit venom in Gregory’s direction, “hid in his house like the coward he is.”

Rick made a noise of disgust in his throat. “You would have let them all die, let this place be overrun,” he spat, “and you want to try to make this decision for them? I don’t think you speak for your people, Gregory. You’re certainly not doing this for  _ their _ best interest.”

“The- the relationship we have with the Saviors is-  _ fragile _ \- but it’s better than no protection at all-”

“It’s  _ not _ .” Michonne frowned. “You survived before them. You’ll survive after. And what’s more, if you join us, your people will get the training they need to protect this community after everything is said and done. You won’t need to rely on anyone to protect you anymore.”

“No.”

Michonne shook her head. “We can  _ beat _ them-”

“I said no!” Gregory cried, throwing his hands up. “That’s the end of it! I’ve heard you people out long enough. You can see yourselves out.”

Michonne shot Maggie a pleading look, but Maggie put a hand on her shoulder and nodded to the door. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

* * *

Once they were back downstairs in the large house, Rosita turned to Maggie.

“What the hell? You’re not going to try to get him to change his mind?”

“I am,” Maggie replied calmly. “And I will. The people here want to fight. They’re ready, and Gregory doesn’t know it yet, but Sasha, Jesus, and I have been training them already.”

“Why doesn’t he want them to fight? To know how to defend themselves?” Carl asked.

“He’s scared of people not having to rely on him. Thinks it’ll make them turn on him, take back all the power he has, and that terrifies him more than anything,” Maggie answered. “But we’re going to fight. It’s not his decision to make.” She spoke with a focused intensity that Rick admired, and he was proud, looking at Maggie now and seeing how far she’d come since they’d first met. She would, undoubtedly, lead the Hilltop to do great things.

“Thank you,” Rick said, placing a hand on her shoulder. At that, she turned to him, her face splitting into a warm smile.

“ _ Rick _ . Oh, God,” She pulled him into a fierce hug, one that he readily returned.

“I’m so glad you’re alright. That both of you are alright, that the baby’s okay-” Rick felt his throat getting thick. “Maggie, I’m so sorry. About…about Glenn, that it’s taken me so long to come check on you-”

“Don’t,” Her voice was firm as she pulled back, looking him straight in the eye, hands tight on his forearms. “Don’t do that. You don’t need to do that. I know you’ve been dealing with a lot on your end. And I also know you’ve been checking up on us. Jesus said you ask about us when he stops by.”

“After you left…” Rick shook his head. “I understand why you did it. You needed the doctor here. It was safer for the baby. But I worried.”

Maggie smiled, and Sasha stepped up beside her, squeezing her shoulder. “We’re okay, Rick. Really. We’re needed here more than we are in Alexandria.” Rick moved to pull Sasha into a hug as well.

“I know. I know you are.”

* * *

Negan whistled cheerfully as he strode out into the sunlight, appreciating the warmth. That was one of the few downsides to the Sanctuary- while they did have running water, the heating and cooling system had been rusted beyond repair when they’d taken the place over, and the result was freezing winters and sweltering summers. Right now, in late autumn, there was usually a chill inside the walls, and Negan spent as much of his daylight hours as he could soaking in the sun.

He strolled through the back lot, observing as a group of workers hammered away at the foundation of the garden shed. His men had been…confused, to say the very least, when he’d announced to them that they were going to set to work on a garden so they could start farming the land. He’d been met with quite a few strange looks, and Dwight even had the audacity to question him- though he’d been smart enough to do it when it was just the two of them.

“Why even bother with this, Negan? We’re not in short supply of food, we get fresh stuff from the Kingdom and the Hilltop…why go to all this trouble?” Dwight had asked him, his scarred face contorted with confusion. Negan got it, he did. Why go through the labor of farming when they could just take what they needed, right? But what Rick had said had made a lot of sense.

“ _ Because _ , Dwighty boy. We’re trying to rebuild the world here. Bring back civilization. That means population growth, more people, more mouths to feed, more able bodies that need jobs to do. I hardly think having too much food is a problem people are going to be real fucking concerned about. Besides, what if something happens to the crops in the Kingdom or some shit? They had to burn a lot of their crops a while back when they got infested with that parasite, and it’s fucking dangerous to rely on other people like that. If we’re producing and collecting, we’ll be even stronger.  _ And _ -” Negan added dangerously, “just to fucking remind you, Dwight,  _ because I said so _ is sure as shit a good enough reason for us to be doing this.”

Dwight hadn’t had anything to say to that.

As Negan walked around, observing the labor, he caught sight of Amber lingering nearby, leaning against a railing on one of the rear loading docks and watching the construction. He made his way over to her, pleased when she didn’t seem entirely displeased with his presence. “Enjoyin’ the view, darlin’? It’s not much to fucking look at right now, but that shit’s gonna be damn impressive come spring.”

“You’re starting a garden. Farming,” She observed, long blonde hair fluttering in the crisp breeze, “Why?”

Negan chuckled and leaned on the railing with her, setting Lucille beside him. “You know, Dwight asked me the same goddamned question a few days ago. We’re farming because it’s a damn good idea. Because there’s no such thing as too much food. Added fucking bonus, we get to pick what we’re growing.”

Amber nodded. “Alright. I wasn’t…I wasn’t saying it’s a bad idea. I think it’s a great idea, actually. I like it.” There was a lightness to her voice that Negan hadn’t heard in a long time, and he smiled over at her.

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“I grew up on a farm, actually,” Amber replied. “It was mostly animals we raised, cows and horses and chickens. But we did some planting, too. Nothing big, carrots and tomatoes and things. My mom loved growing strawberries, though. They were the best strawberries I’d ever had, too.” She smiled sadly. “Maybe that’s just because she grew them, though.”

Negan placed a strong hand on her shoulder, and she relaxed into the touch, covering his hand with her own and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll tell you what, darlin’,” He said, “once we get this shit finished up, I’ll make sure they grow some strawberries for you. I’ll ask my top farming guy when the best time to plant them is, and we’ll have them in the ground before you fucking know it.”

Amber’s eyes met his with a grateful warmth. “You mean it?”

He nodded. “I most certainly fucking do. I’m a man of my word, you know that.”

She turned back to look out at the yard again, seeming lighter than before. “Thank you.”

“It’s no fucking problem, darlin’.”

“So, your top farming guy,” Amber said suddenly, “who would that be?”

“Rick, actually, if you can fucking believe it.” He heard her snort out a laugh, and he shot her a look. “I know. Farmer Rick. Doesn’t look the type, right? Or maybe he does, all the damned flannel he wears.”

“Oh, it’s not that.”

Negan frowned. “Then what are you snorting at?”

“Oh, nothing,” Amber teased, “Just that you’ve never been concerned about us actually growing stuff before, and Rick comes in, he’s apparently a farming boy, and suddenly we have a garden in the back lot.”

“The hell are you trying to imply?”

“Was farming here Rick’s idea?”

Negan huffed, “Might have mentioned it, yeah,” and Amber laughed. “It was a damn good idea! You said it was.”

“Oh, it is. But we both know that’s not why you’re doing it.”

“Don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” Negan muttered.

“Oh, come on, Negan. Like we can’t all tell. He’s got you wrapped around his finger,” Negan choked out a scoffing noise and Amber waved him off. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s sweet, actually. You really care about him. It’s nice to see. Makes you seem like less of a dick.”

Negan snorted. “Don’t know why I let you girls get away with the shit you say to me. If anyone else walked up and called me a dick I’d throw ‘em in the hole for a day. And I care about plenty of people. I care about you girls.”

“ know. But it's different. You feel responsible for us. You like that he actually likes being around you.”

“You sayin’ you don’t like being around me, Amber? You’re gonna break my fucking heart, darlin’.”

“I’m saying that you have a different relationship with him than you do with everyone else. And that’s not a bad thing. You should be careful with it. Don’t fuck it up.” With that, she leaned up, kissing Negan briefly on the cheek. “I’ll see you around, Negan. Say hi to Rick for me.”

* * *

Negan was delighted when he saw Rick pulling into the front lot of the Sanctuary. He was home earlier than usual, which meant they had some extra time to spend together. And, admittedly, after his talk with Amber earlier had brought the man up, Negan was itching for some one-on-one time with Rick. He rocked back on his heels when Rick parked the car and ambled up to him, a lax smile on his lips. “Were you waitin’ on me or somethin’, Negan?”

Negan leaned in close, tugging Rick in by the beltloops of his ratty jeans until their chests bumped each other. “Hardly, baby. I just have excellent fucking timing. I am tickled fucking pink to see you, though. Been itching to get my hands on you all day.”

“I seem to recall you havin’ your hands on me just this morning. Somethin’ about not letting me leave the bed until I gave you a helping hand with a problem you were having.” The sweet teasing in Rick’s tone made Negan want to devour him, press kisses to his pink lips until they were red and swollen.

“I seem to recall you not minding.”

“Mmm,” Rick hummed in agreement, kissing at Negan’s stubbled chin, “That’s fair. So did you have somethin’ in mind? For right now?”

“I was thinking I’d get you fed first. Have a nice dinner together. You hungry? What do you want?”

“Surprise me.” 

Negan decided he could do that. They walked back to their room together, Negan’s arm tight around Rick’s shoulders, enjoying the closeness they shared. He loved how Rick leaned into him now, arm around Negan’s waist snugly, like it belonged there.

Negan pulled Rick inside the room and kicked the door closed behind them, tugging off Rick’s clothes and running his hands over the exposed skin. Rick laughed as he was stripped, shoving at Negan’s chest. “I thought we were gonna eat first.”

“We are. You’re going to go take a shower.”

“I could’ve undressed myself.”

“I wanted to fucking help,” Negan pressed a surprisingly chaste kiss to Rick’s collarbone. “Go. I’ll get the food.” Rick obeyed, turning away, and Negan couldn’t resist giving his ass a playful slap as he walked away. Rick shot him a flirty glare over his shoulder before stepping into the bathroom.

Negan radioed down to one of his men to bring them dinner, and waited, having to hold himself back from stripping down and joining Rick in the shower.  _ Show some goddamned restraint _ , Negan chided himself.

Their food had just been delivered when Rick finished showering, stepping out of the bathroom to find Negan sitting at the low coffee table in the corner, their meal spread out for them.

“Chicken, and…is that…ice cream?” Rick asked, eyes going wide as he toweled off his curly hair. Negan’s tongue swiped over his lips as he watched Rick step toward him, body bare and flushed pink from the heat of his shower.

“It’s gelato, actually,” Negan replied, speaking mostly to Rick’s crotch. “Look good?”

“Definitely,” Rick said, turning toward the dresser. Negan made a disapproving sound.

“C’mon, baby. Come eat with me.”

“I’m getting dressed, Negan. Christ, you’re impatient.”

“I don’t recall anyone ever requiring clothes to eat.”

Rick snorted and pulled on a pair of boxers, Negan’s eyes eating up the way his thighs moved and ass clenched as he stepped into them. “That what you want? You want me to sit around naked so you can stare at me?”

“Sounds like a damn good plan to me.”

Rick laughed. “No. It’s way too cold.”

“I can help with that.”

“No.”

“You can wear my jacket, how’s that sound?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Rick flopped down beside Negan on the small couch, shoving his shoulder. “Because I’d feel like an idiot. And someone could walk in.”

“Not like you have anything to be embarrassed about,” Negan purred into his ear, hand sliding up Rick’s jean-clad inner thigh.

“You’re ridiculous,” Rick groaned. “Just let me eat in peace.”

Negan did, for the most part, with the exception of the couple spoonfuls of gelato that he pressed to Rick’s lips, shamelessly enjoying watching him take the spoon between his lips and lick it clean. Which, because Negan lacked self-control when it came to Rick, led to him drawing Rick in for slow kisses, licking the sweetness from the inside of his mouth. Rick sighed happily into it, half in Negan’s lap, chuckling when Negan started pulling his shirt off, breaking the kiss to pull it over his head and toss it aside.

“We’re not even done yet,” Rick protested as Negan’s lips attached themselves to the crook of his shoulder, nibbling at the bare skin.

“Hurry the fuck up, then. I’ve got shit I want to do to you.”

Rick scooped up a spoonful of gelato, holding it out to Negan, who gladly took it with a devilish smirk that Rick didn’t understand until a moment later, when an ice-cold mouth closed around his nipple.

“Fuck!  _ Negan _ -” Rick pushed at his head and Negan laughed throatily against his chest, cold tongue teasing the nub into hardness. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love me like that, baby.” Negan cooed, stilling for a moment when he realized what he’d said. Rick seemed to notice it too, because for a moment the air of playfulness was gone and Negan was awkwardly pressed against Rick’s chest, wondering if what he’d said was really such a big deal. He hadn’t meant it like that, for fuck’s sake. Just poor word choice.

He decided to break the tension. “C’mon,” he said, pulling Rick up off the couch. “The night’s fucking young. It’s been too long since you got your ass handed to you playing ping pong. Grab your shirt if you really have to and let’s go.”

* * *

Rick, much to Negan’s complaint, decided he really did have to grab his shirt before they made their way to the rec room, which was empty sans for Simon, who was watching a black-and-white movie on the small television in the corner.

“Hey, boss,” Simon grinned, and Negan clapped him on the shoulder as he passed where Simon was sitting. He nodded in Rick’s direction, “Rick.” It was one of the more friendly interactions Rick had had with the Saviors. While many weren’t unfriendly, they simply didn’t interact with him, and after spending so much time there, Rick didn’t take it too personally. There didn’t seem to be the same sense of close-knit community at the Sanctuary as there was in Alexandria, and most people during the day were too busy working whatever job they had to socialize. Rick knew it had everything to do with how streamlined and impersonal the place was- obviously, relationships were had, and there were recreation rooms like the one they were in now, but Negan’s strict class system and focus on production seemed to weigh the people under his reign down.

Rick couldn’t help but wonder if maybe _ , just maybe _ , over time that Negan would begin to loosen up on that too, if Rick gave him gentle nudges in the right direction. He’d taken to the farming idea easily enough, after all.

Negan snapped Rick out of his thoughts by tossing a paddle at him from across the table. “Let’s see if you still suck ass at this, Rick.”

Rick rolled his eyes and swung as Negan served. “I never  _ sucked ass _ at this, Negan. I just don’t spend as much time playing with balls as you do.”

At that, Rick managed to actually score a point, though it probably had something to do with Negan being hunched over the table, laughing so hard that it shook. Rick could hear Simon’s wheezy laugh over the noise of the tv as well.

“Fuck, Rick!” Negan chortled, retrieving the ball from the floor. “That’s why I like you. Although, that’s not really accurate these days, is it, baby? I seem to recall a number of times where you enjoyed playing with some balls-”

Rick made an irritated sound in his throat, cutting off Negan’s vulgarity with a jerk of his head toward Simon, who had resumed watching his movie. Negan slapped the ball across the table to Rick again. “He doesn’t mind, do you, Simon?”

“If you two are gonna flirt the whole goddamn time, I’m gonna watch this somewhere else,” Simon threw back, and Negan laughed.

“See? He’s fine.”

* * *

Simon did end up leaving, though it wasn’t for another twenty minutes, and it was because his movie ended, not because Negan couldn’t keep his innuendo count to a minimum. Which he was able to do much more easily when he and Rick got into the game, which ended up nail-bitingly close until Negan finally took the lead, the first to reach their agreed upon fifteen points.

“Technically, I was even further ahead than that, since you got that first point by making a joke about balls, which is some goddamned low hanging fruit, if you ask me,” Negan ribbed.

“Was  _ that _ a joke about balls?”

Negan sidled up behind Rick and wrapped his hands around the smaller man’s hips. “Might have been.”

“You’re a child.” Rick groaned, half-annoyance and half-pleasure as Negan’s hand slid between his legs to cup him through his jeans.

“You started it.” Negan’s fingers worked Rick’s belt open.

“And now you’re startin' something else. Something that I really hope you don’t plan on doing in here.” Rick’s pants were suddenly at his thighs, and that was really enough of an answer, but Negan felt the need to clarify, anyway.

“I most certainly fucking do plan on doing it in here, Rick. Right here on this table, in fact.”

“You’re joking,” Rick deadpanned.

“Nope!” Negan said gleefully, hooking a finger into Rick’s boxers and pulling them down to his knees as well. He nudged Rick forward until his hips met the edge of the ping pong table, and Rick braced himself against the surface on his elbows as he listened to the sounds of Negan’s belt being undone behind him. “You remember a while back, when I said I’d take you on this table if the moment called for it? Well, the phone’s fucking ringing, Rick.”

Rick heard the now-familiar sound of a bottle opening and resisted the urge to roll his eyes because  _ of course Negan brought lube with him _ . Really, Rick wouldn’t be surprised if there was always a bottle in his jacket pocket, just for occasions such as this.

“I’d really love to fuck you on your back,” Negan said conversationally, pressing slick fingers inside of Rick as he spoke. “Make you wrap your legs around me, watch you get all red-faced and fucked out. Don’t trust this table not to break, though, and that would be a damn shame.” Rick moaned softly at the fingers stroking him from the inside, opening him up. “You ready for it, Rick?”

“Y-yes,” Rick breathed, wound up tight already. Negan brushed feather-light kisses to his lower back as the fingers withdrew, and Rick was struck by the sweetness of the gesture. That was Negan though, he’d discovered. His sweetness came at unexpected times, kind words when Rick expected biting sarcasm, gentle kisses before a rough fuck and soft, murmured praises after.

And sure enough, the gentle kisses were followed by Negan snapping his hips into Rick, filling him and setting a quick, brutal pace that left Rick scrabbling at the table’s smooth surface for leverage. Negan bent over him, one hand wrapped around his hip to steady him while the other pushed his shirt up to stroke over soft skin. Rick’s legs spread further apart, knees still bound by the fabric of his pants, and he groaned into his arm when Negan’s cock brushed the sensitive spot inside of him. Rick vaguely recalled him telling Negan months ago that there was no way he was going to fuck him on this table, but he found that he didn’t really mind being proven wrong with the way Negan was fucking into him, his hard length dragging along Rick’s walls and drawing soft noises out of him.

Rick’s head hung down, hot breath ghosting over his forearms and the table while Negan purred vulgar praises into his ear-

“Boss! You seen Dwight today? Arat said he missed his patrol shift, hasn’t seen-” Simon’s voice came to an abrupt halt when he walked into the room, and Rick and Negan’s heads snapped up to see a wide-eyed and uncomfortable looking Simon standing in the doorway at the opposite end of the table. “I, uh. You know what, it can fucking wait-”

Simon turned on his heel and Rick buried his burning face in his arms. He could feel Negan shaking with laughter above him and to his horror, the other man's voice rang out. “Simon! What’s this about Dwight?”

Rick’s eyes flew wide with horror as Negan continued to rock into him, one hand snaking beneath the table to wrap around Rick’s cock, stroking it with firm slides of his hand. Rick hissed, his whole body tense.  _ “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” _

Negan ignored his words, still addressing Simon casually, like he wasn’t balls deep inside Rick. “You asked Sherry?”

Rick prayed that Simon at least had the decency to stay facing toward the door. The man cleared his throat. “I-ah. I haven’t. I’ll go do that now.”

“Good. You come tell me as soon as you hear anything. That’s serious fucking shit, Simon.” Negan thumbed the wet head of Rick’s cock and gave a particularly hard thrust straight into Rick’s sweet spot, and Rick was horrified to hear the soft whine that escaped from him at that. Negan chuckled into the back of his neck.

_ “I’m going to kill you,” _ Rick whispered, voice strained.

“Right. Uh. You got it, boss.”

Rick heard retreating footsteps and the rec door shutting and let out a shuddering breath as Negan began thrusting into him with abandon again, hands on his hips while he laughed loudly above him.

“Holy fuck! I wish I could have seen your fucking face, I bet it was-  _ aah _ \- fucking priceless…fucking shit, I’m pretty sure you’re blushing all the way down to your ass right now-”

Rick very much wanted to throw out a few choice words in response, but Negan’s hand was still on him, and in a matter of seconds, he was groaning into his arms and bucking into Negan’s fist, spilling hot and wet over his hand. He tried to catch his breath as Negan rode out his own high, wet heat flooding inside of Rick. When Negan pulled out, Rick rounded on him, face burning.

“What the  _ hell _ was that?”

“What, did you want me to fucking stop because he walked in?”

“ _ Yes _ ,” Rick intoned.

“Not like he was here for very long. Would have been a shame to have to start all over again when we were so close.” Negan said casually, pulling his clothes back on.

Rick surprised himself by half-laughing, half-groaning and punching Negan hard on the shoulder as he grabbed his clothes off the floor. “You’re a fucking asshole, you know that?”

“I think that’s been fucking established, Rick.”

“You get off on him watching you or something?” Rick jeered as he buckled his belt.

“ _ Simon _ _?_ Hell fucking no. He just has shit timing with stuff like this. You would not believe the shit he’s walked in on. Or the shit he’s been walked in on doing. It’s a goddamned superpower.” He pulled Rick in close and kissed him on the lips, all sweetness again.

“Still,” Rick muttered as they left the rec room, “You didn’t need to start jerking me off  _ right then _ .”

“I thought it’d be funny to see how red you got. And I was fucking right. It  _ was _ .”

Rick shoved him again, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re a fucking idiot, Negan.”

* * *

Simon seemed to have learned his lesson about popping in on them unannounced, because he radioed Negan about Dwight not long after they returned to their room.

“Found him, boss. Just got back from somewhere. Has supplies and shit with him, said he went on a solo run. You authorize that?”

Negan frowned, settling into bed beside Rick. “I most certainly motherfucking did not. He say where exactly he went on this little adventure of his?”

“Said a little north of the Hilltop. Put about fifty or so miles on his car, so it checks out, but he was gone a long time.”

Negan gritted his teeth, unsure of what to do. Dwight was of a high enough rank that he didn’t strictly police his coming and going, and it wasn’t like he was forbidden from taking solo runs or even some time to himself, but he always checked in first, let either Simon or himself know where he was going. That he slipped out and abandoned his patrol shift made him itchy.

“Put a couple guards on him for tonight. I’ll deal with it in the morning before the Alexandria pickup.”

“Got it, boss.”

Negan set the radio down on the table beside the bed and rolled over, pulling Rick to his chest. He decided not to dwell on Dwight’s actions, instead opting to focus on the man dozing in his arms, sleep-heavy breaths falling from his lips. Negan slid a warm hand under his shirt, resting it against his belly as he closed his eyes.

_ It’s probably nothing. Dwight probably just wasn’t fucking thinking or forgot to tell someone to cover his shift. No big deal.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, a thank you to Renchaos for beta reading this for me!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note here- some of the backstory with Dwight, Sherry, and Negan will be mentioned here. I'm deviating from the TV canon for it, because I prefer the comic version of events for them. Just a heads up in case you read it an think "that's now that happened in the show".

Rick woke up the next morning to Negan slipping out of bed.

“Still dark out,” Rick mumbled sleepily, curling into himself when the chill of the room began to seep into the bed with him in Negan’s absence. “Why’re you up?”

Negan’s breath was a warm puff against his ear. “Gotta go see what the fuck is going on with Dwight, sweetheart. Go back to sleep. You don’t have to get up yet.” There was an unmistakable warmth and affection in his tone, and his lips found the spot behind Rick’s ear, pressing a soft kiss there before he left. Rick barely heard Negan leave the room, already drifting off the moment his eyes closed again.

* * *

Negan frowned down at Dwight, who was thankfully already awake when he’d arrived in his room. He kicked the door shut behind him, lingering against the doorframe while Dwight sat uncomfortably on the edge of his bed.

“A solo run?” Dwight nodded his head. “Why didn’t you tell anyone where the fuck you were going? You know I admire your go-getter goddamned spirit, Dwighty boy, but you can’t just fuck off to wherever-the-fuck without getting someone to cover your patrol.”

“I, ah. It must have just slipped my mind, boss. I’m sorry.”

Negan’s lip curled at that, and at the way Dwight was looking at the floor instead of him. “Eyes on me, Dwighty boy.” The command came out sharply, a harsh snap, and Dwight’s ruined face lifted to look up at him. _Good._ “ _I forgot_ isn’t really a good goddamned answer, now is it, Dwight? I mean, if everyone here just _forgot_ to do their fucking jobs, we’d be fucked straight up the wall, now wouldn’t we?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, you’re one of my top guys, Dwight, and this shit isn’t like you, so I’m going to show you some fucking mercy and let this slide. _This time_. But if I find out that you weren’t where you said you were- if I have any goddamned reason to believe that this wasn’t a one-time thing…well, you’d better fucking stay out there, Dwight. Because you won’t like what happens if I get my fucking hands on you.”

Dwight nodded, face blank and emotionless. A soldier through and through- Negan liked that in him. “Yes, sir.”

Negan’s face relaxed into an easy smile. “Good. Now get your ass out of bed. You’ve got double patrols today to make up for Arat covering for your ass yesterday.”

* * *

“Rick.” A hand snagged Rick’s wrist, jerking him to the side and around a corner. Rick dug his heels in, fist raised and ready to fight. For a breathless, terrifying moment, his mind dug up the memory of David's hands on him, the blind panic that had boiled up in him at the man's assault weeks ago. He jerked his hand away, snarling, only to be met with Dwight staring at him with a solemn look. He dropped his fists questioningly.

“Dwight?”

“Rick- look, I need to talk to you.”

Rick blinked in confusion. “Why?”

“It’s about Alexandria-” Dwight broke off, eyes darting around warily. “Is Negan with you?”

Rick shook his head. “He told me to go ahead, said he’d be a few minutes. What about Alexandria?”

“I went there yesterday-” Rick’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, and Dwight waved him down. “Not for- for anything like that. Not for _him_." The distaste in Dwight's voice at the mention of Negan sent a shock through Rick- wasn't Dwight supposed to be one of Negan's top soldiers? "I went there to tell them what I’m telling you now- I want to help.”

“Help…with what?”

“With overthrowing Negan. I know you’re planning to.”

Rick forced himself to keep his face impassive. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“You do. I know you do. And I want to be a part of it.”

What the hell was this? Some kind of test from Negan? Rick searched Dwight’s face for a sign, some flicker in his serious expression that would give him away. He couldn’t find one, but his guard didn’t drop. “Why the hell would you want to overthrow Negan? You’re one of his top men.”

“I hate him just as much as all of you do. He gets his kicks out of being in charge like this, he always has.”

“Sounds like you’ve known him a long time,” Rick replied. The thought intrigued him- he'd often wondered what Negan had been like before he had an army under his command.

“Longer than anyone else that’s still alive, as far as I know. Met him out there before the Saviors became the Saviors. When we met, he was travelling on his own. I had a small group, me and Sherry. Yeah, that’s right,” Dwight’s face twisted into a frown, “ _that_ Sherry. She used to be my wife. And then Negan came in, fucked everything up. Started taking charge of the group, and they started following him, because he’s that kind of person. Sherry saw the authority he had, saw how much I resented him for taking it. She left me, became his first wife when the Saviors were formed because she saw what he could give her. More than I could.” There was a deep, simmering bitterness in Dwight’s words that led Rick to believe that he was telling the truth. And it certainly explained a few things- Dwight’s scarred face, the time he’d caught them smoking in the stairway together. But, still-

“You want to start a war with him because your wife left you? You’re willing to risk everything- to try to team up with a bunch of people who hate you- for that?”

Dwight’s eyes were steel. “I want him gone for a lot of reasons. For me, for Sherry, for all the people here working in his shitty points system, scraping by doing shit jobs. And I know you want to get out of here. He’s keeping you captive, for fuck’s sake. I can understand why you wouldn’t believe me, but I really did go to Alexandria yesterday. I talked to your people. The woman in charge- Michonne? She’s ready to go to war. And so are the others. I know you know about it, too. Let me help.”

Negan’s voice was a sudden echo from around the corner, a booming warning: “Rick! You still here? Need to get that cute ass moving, baby!”

Mistrust bubbled up in Rick’s chest, and he took a step away from Dwight, pulling out of his grasp when he heard Negan approaching. “I have to go. I don’t know if you’re telling the truth or not, but stay the hell away from Alexandria.”

He bolted down the hall and turned the corner, nearly running face-first into Negan’s broad chest. The other man laughed at Rick’s perceived eagerness, throwing an arm around Rick’s shoulders and steering him toward the door. “You get lost, Rick?”

Rick forced a laugh, trying not to let on how much the conversation with Dwight had shaken him. “Yeah. Sort of. This place is huge.”

“Guess I’m to fucking blame for that, huh? Never did give you a full tour of the place, did I?” He chuckled. “Ah, well. You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Rick replied, trying to push the conversation with Dwight to the back of his mind. “I’m ready.”

* * *

Rick was abnormally quiet on the drive to Alexandria, and it was getting under Negan’s skin a little. Negan was driving for once, Rick sitting beside him, staring out the passenger side window of the truck. Negan tried for a little bit to gain his attention- cracking jokes that normally would have provoked a snappy retort or an eye roll, throwing out a few vulgar suggestions for what they could do when they returned to the Sanctuary later that evening- nothing. He took small comfort in the fact that Rick didn’t seem particularly upset with him- he just seemed lost in thought, his blue eyes unfocused as they gazed out at the passing scenery.

“We’re here, Rick,” Negan said, prodding his shoulder with a gloved finger. He parked the truck and felt the way his face cracked into a small smile when Rick turned to look at him- a habit that he’d been trying and failing to break once he’d caught onto it. He leaned in and cupped the side of Rick’s face, trying to draw the smaller man in for a kiss. Rick nearly relaxed into it- and then he jerked suddenly out of Negan’s grip, eyes wide and full lips parted. Negan frowned, disturbed by Rick’s aversion to affection- and then it clicked.

 _It’s the first time we’ve been here since we- well, since we became whatever the fuck it is we are now. Nobody here knows he’s fucking the enemy. Or, at least, they don’t know he_ wants _it._

That last part held a bit of bitterness, but Negan forced it away. He was a dick, but there was no way he was going to make Rick hold a damn neighborhood meeting to tell everyone that everything going on with him and Negan was one-hundred-percent consensual. Even if it did make him itchy knowing that people had the completely wrong idea about him.

Negan pulled back, squeezing Rick’s hand. “I forgot that you probably don’t want people seeing me mack on you, do you?”

Rick gritted his teeth, looking uncomfortable. “I, uh. Am I allowed to ask you not to? Just while we’re here?” The pleading, desperate note in Rick’s voice made Negan’s chest ache. Was he really so much of a dick that Rick had to plead with him to not humiliate him in front of the people he considered his family?

Negan thought back to their previous trips to Alexandria. _Yeah_ , he conceded, _that's probably a fair fucking assumption_.

He couldn’t blame him, not really. Not when he practically draped himself over Rick every time they came here, watchful and possessive by his side as if daring anyone to question why they were standing so close, why Negan’s arm was around Rick. He had a possessive, jealous streak- he knew that about himself, and never really bothered to downplay it these days. It was a different world, and he needed to stake his claim of what was _his_.

And Rick was his, especially now. Negan had thought for the longest time that that was all he wanted: for Rick to be someone he could own completely. But now…now he wanted something else. Something mutual, something complete. He wanted Rick to _want_ to be his. And as for him…he wanted to be Rick’s, too. And he didn’t like that word Rick used: _allowed_. It sounded stifling, cruel. He didn’t want to be that to Rick.

Amber’s words came back to him- gentle, teasing, but a warning nonetheless: _Don’t fuck it up_.

So Negan swallowed back his initial impulse to tell Rick that he could get over himself, and he nodded, squeezing the smaller man’s hand where it sat between them on the seat. “Of course. Of fucking course I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, Rick. I’ll act like nothing’s changed, alright?”

The knotted worry in Rick’s expression loosened a bit, and he squeezed Negan’s hand in return. “Thank you.”

Negan nodded and opened the car door, sliding out. “No problem, Rick.”

But, because his need to be an asshole was never too far away, he pulled Rick under his arm as they walked into Alexandria, lips close to his ear. “You know they’re all gonna find out eventually, right? Fuck, you’re not planning on hiding this from them forever, are you? I know you're not that fucking stupid, Rick.”

He expected Rick to tense against him, pull away or call him an asshole. Deny it. Hiss in hushed, shamed tones that nobody ever needed to know what they did behind closed doors. But Rick just kept his stride. “I know. I know that,” He sounded defeated, resigned. “I’m not stupid, I know I can’t hide this from people forever. I just want to do it on my terms, that’s all.”

Negan snorted derisively. “What, you gonna go around telling all these nice folks yourself? Go knockin’ door to door- ‘howdy, neighbor, have you heard that I’m fucking Negan?’”

“ _No_ ,” Rick elbowed him playfully in the ribs, “Not gonna do that with everyone. But the people I’m close to- they deserve to hear it from me. They deserve me bein’ honest with them.”

Not for the first time, Negan found himself impressed by the integrity of the man beside him. “That’s real…fucking big of you, Rick.”

“I’ve told Michonne. Daryl, Gabriel.” Rick nudged at the ground with his foot, kicking up gravel. “I don’t know how to tell Carl.”

Negan snorted. “Yeah, that’s not a fucking conversation I envy you having, Rick. But…maybe he doesn’t need to know.”

Rick’s head jerked up at that. “You just fuckin’ told me that everyone was gonna find out.”

“Yeah, well. He’s your fucking kid, Rick. He doesn’t need to know about your sex life, does he?”

“It’d be different, if it was just sex, you know? But it’s really not, is it?” Rick’s voice was genuine, open, and it pulled at something in Negan, that sweet edge to his words sinking its fingers into him and not letting go.

“No, I guess it’s not.” It felt good to say it out loud, that there was something more there. It was always there, a tenderness between them since the day they’d confessed as much to each other, but Negan still caught himself wondering sometimes if Rick was going to come to his senses and put an end to all of the softness they'd allowed to creep into their interactions. What they had felt fragile, delicate as silk and breakable as glass, constantly teetering on the edge and ready to shatter. The thought pained Negan more than he would ever care to admit aloud, and he wanted to do all he could to prevent the inevitable fallout- or, at the very least, cushion the landing.

“Then I feel like he deserves to know. He’ll be…well, he’ll be pissed.” Rick spoke the word with affection, smiling sadly to himself. “And he should be. But he deserves to know what’s going on, anyway.”

Negan’s arm tightened around Rick, just for a moment. “You’re a good dad, Rick. A good leader. You’re honest. The people here had better fucking appreciate that.”

“I don’t think they’re going to be focused on my _honesty_ , Negan,” Rick muttered.

Negan huffed a laugh. “Fair enough.” At that, he dropped his arm from around Rick and turned to his men, who were gathered in front of the trucks. “You know what to do. Collect our shit, be fucking civil. Let me know if we come up short on anything.” At that, everyone dispersed. Rick hovered by his side for a moment, as he always did, like he was unsure if he was free to roam. “You not gonna go say a quick hello to the kiddos?” Negan asked.

“Carl’s…well, Carl’s never here for pickups,” Rick answered, gazing in the direction of his house. “I’d like to go see Judith, though.”

Negan waved him off. “Knock yourself out, baby. I should probably keep an eye on things, anyway. I’ll come get you when we’re ready to leave.”

Rick nodded and bounded off down the street, and Negan let his gaze linger on Rick’s retreating backside for a moment before he dragged his eyes away. Rick was always free to roam on their trips to Alexandria, but Negan usually trailed after him, making suggestive comments and trying to get a rise out of him. Today, though, he felt like he should probably hold back. Even just in the car, he could feel the itch in his fingers as he was tempted to slide his hands all over Rick. Even though it had just been since last night, he could feel need swelling in him, hot and hungry. If he spent the afternoon hanging all over Rick, he knew he was likely to slip up and do something a little too friendly that would give away the exact nature of their relationship.

Shaking off the thought, Negan headed down the street toward the armory, where Arat was checking the inventory. “Everything square over here, Arat?” He noted the nervous way the woman in charge of the armory and pantry regarded him- Olivia. He remembered her. She’d been watching Judith that time Rick had let Negan meet her- and she’d had that same anxious air to her then as well. As if he was going to hurt a baby. That got under his skin too; the people here thought him an outright monster. He supposed it served a purpose- keeping them afraid, keeping them in line- but he’d rather them fear for their own lives rather than the lives of their children. 

“Yes, sir. Everything’s here.”

“Good! Glad to fucking hear it.” And he was, truly. He never liked it when people were short- it led to conflict, to the inevitable punishment, to the screaming and crying and whatever else that followed. He never relished the killing- it was a necessity, in his mind, but he would much prefer for things to run smoothly.

As he walked along, checking in with the others, he realized exactly how relieved he was that Alexandria in particular was delivering consistently on their pickups. Having to punish them- he knew it would cause a rift between him and Rick, and that was the last thing he wanted when things were finally on the up and up between them. Nothing to put a damper on fucking like your partner killing more of your friends.

Negan tried not to think about that- about what would happen if he had to make that call. He and Rick- what they had wouldn’t survive it, he was sure. Fuck, he was amazed that the whole thing had gone as far as it had after what he’d done to Red and the Asian kid. He was smart enough to know that he wasn’t forgiven just because Rick was fucking him- no, that wasn’t the kind of man Rick was. Rick would carry their deaths with him to his grave, Negan was sure of that.

He also didn’t want to think about what it meant for _him_ that he was so reluctant to punish Rick’s group. It was a sign of weakness, he knew- a soft spot, a chink in his armor. Rick Grimes was his goddamn Achilles heel, and he knew it. Normally, that would be something he would force himself to look away from, snuffing out the weakness like the flame of a candle, but with Rick…he couldn’t bring himself to. The thought of pulling away from him now sounded painful- he would have likened it to pulling out a thorn in his side, but that wasn't it at all. The notion of ridding himself of Rick now, after he'd foolishly, stupidly let himself get so attached, felt like a wound all its own. Every move they made had him balancing on the edge of a knife, where any shaky step could send him sinking down onto the blade. 

And for all that initial fall would hurt, he wasn't sure how much of him would survive if he pulled the blade out. 

It was a dangerous way to feel, he knew. If Rick caught on that he had that kind of power over him, he could easily use it to his advantage. The thought was terrifying- that one man could potentially topple him from the towering throne of all he’d built. Negan would like to think that he had more willpower than that- that, if push came to shove, he could easily leave Rick behind in favor of everything else.

The fact that he had even the slightest sliver of doubt about it was unsettling.

For the moment, he pushed the thought away. All he really wanted to do was see Rick- and, if he was lucky, Rick’s little angel, Judith. He walked up the stairs to Rick’s front porch and stepped into the house to be met with the sight of Rick sitting on the couch, Judith in his lap. Negan felt a smile slide across his face at the sound of the girl’s giggling as Rick bounced her on his knee, cooing softly. Negan closed the door quietly behind him, but they both noticed his intrusion- Rick turned to face him and Judith’s big blue eyes followed him as he walked over, wide and inquisitive.

“Are we leaving?” Rick ran a hand over Judith’s blonde curls, and Negan took a seat beside him on the couch.

“Nah, not yet. Just wanted to come see you. And this little angel,” He added, nodding at Judith. Rick relaxed and leaned back on the couch again, pressing a kiss to Judith’s forehead before setting her on the floor. The two of them watched as she pulled herself up using the coffee table and toddled around the room happily, her unsteady legs occasionally wobbling out from under her.

“Every time I see her, I feel like she’s changed. I forgot how fast they grow at this age,” Rick murmured wistfully. Negan tore his eyes away from Judith’s antics to look at him. Rick gazed at his daughter with a sort of tenderness that Negan had only seen directed at Carl and Judith. It was a parental thing, he knew; something Negan could only imagine. He felt a rush of guilt watching him, knowing that he was the reason for Rick missing out on days with his daughter.

“You see her a lot, though,” Negan said, selfishly trying to ease his own guilty conscience. “You’re here a few times a week. You can’t be missing much, right?”

Rick shook his head, smiling to himself. “I’m not. I know I’m not. I just miss her, you know? Her and Carl. I know it’s just a few days a week I’m missing, but it adds up.” Rick bit his lip and scooped Judith- who had apparently worn herself out with all the toddling- off the floor, hugging her close to his chest.

“You could bring them with us, you know. To the Sanctuary.” He knew what Rick was going to say before he opened his mouth, but he felt like shit and needed to say _something_.

“No. No, they belong here. This is their home.” Rick started up the stairs. “I’m gonna put her down for a nap. Olivia will be over in a minute and I’m guessing we’re about to leave, anyway. We’ve been here a while.”

Negan nodded, and waited downstairs while Rick dealt with a sleepy Judith. He puttered around the downstairs, admiring the tidy, cozy house and the working kitchen- a refrigerator that kept things nice and cold, a stove that blazed to life when Negan fiddled with the knob. While Negan certainly had it better than most, they weren’t living anywhere near as nice as this at the Sanctuary. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to pretend that he shared this house with Rick- hot showers in a nice bathroom that hadn’t been cobbled together by a couple of men that used to be plumbers in the old world, home-cooked meals and cozy furniture for everyone, an actual house that felt like a home instead of a cold room carved out of stone in the middle of a drafty factory.

He shoved the thought away as Rick descended the stairs and Olivia stepped in through the front door- a guarded look on her face upon seeing Negan standing in the kitchen. “I-I was told to tell you that the trucks are being loaded up and they’ll be ready to go soon.” She said, as always looking like she had to mentally steel herself before talking to Negan.

Rick nodded to Olivia. “Thank you. We’ll go then. I just put Judith down for a nap.”

Negan and Rick took their leave, and Negan’s arm found its way back around Rick’s shoulders as they walked. He was staring, he knew it- his eyes seemed to be drawn to Rick’s lips as if by some otherworldly force. So pink and soft, begging to be kissed until they were slick and swollen, Negan thought.

They passed by the small church that stood in the center of Alexandria, and Negan made a split-second decision.

 _Fuck it_ , he thought, and tugged Rick sideways through the double doors, scanning the room to make sure it was empty.

“Negan, what the hell are you-” Rick’s concern was cut off by Negan’s lips on his, swallowing his question along with the soft moan he made when Negan shoved him up against the nearest wall, one hand pinning his shoulder while the other roamed lower, over Rick’s sides and down to grope his ass through the worn denim of his jeans.

Rick laughed a protest against Negan’s mouth. “What the hell are you doing?”

Negan’s mouth roamed over Rick’s jaw and down his neck, relishing the pleasant scrape of Rick’s beard against his lips. “Can’t fucking keep my hands off you, Rick. C’mon, they’ll wait for us. How about a quick fuck in the church?”

Rick snorted, hands tangling in Negan’s hair as teeth found the sensitive skin of his throat. “Absolutely not.”

“Why? Afraid someone will fucking hear you?” Negan taunted. “You do get pretty loud when I’m fucking you. You could probably pass it off as praying though, right? All those _Oh, God, oh, God, pleases_ ,” Negan’s lips met Rick’s again, and he was pleased when Rick’s mouth moved wet and slick against his own in an open kiss, tongues sliding into each other’s mouths. Rick groaned low and rumbling in his chest, and Negan felt it all the way down, pressing in closer and cupping the back of Rick’s neck. His other hand traced over Rick’s thigh and up to the growing bulge in the front of his jeans, cupping him through the fabric and grinning into the kiss when Rick’s hips bucked needily into his hand.

A sudden noise from the back of the church startled them both, and Negan let his hand be pried off of Rick’s dick. “What was that?” It had sounded like the creak of the back door, but it appeared to be firmly shut.

Rick wove between pews toward the back of the churchand inspected the area, looking around and checking outside- nothing.

“Probably just a creaky roof or some shit,” Negan concluded. “Now, where were we?” He leaned back into Rick. “Oh, that’s right. I was about to bend you over one of these pews and teach you how to fucking pray.”

Rick snorted and shoved him off, shaking his head. “Not happening. Someone’s going to come looking for us, and the last thing I want is people finding out about us like _that_.”

Negan heaved a dramatic sigh, but obligingly followed Rick back out onto the street. “Fine. But when we get home, I’m going to fucking _take you apart_ , baby.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank so much to everyone who's been reading and commenting, I'm always so happy to hear that people are still finding this story worth reading. And thanks as always to Renchaos for beta-ing!


	7. Chapter 7

Rick was always eager to get back to Alexandria, but two days of torrential rain saw Negan insisting that Rick stay put at the Sanctuary.

“Rick, you know I wouldn’t try to keep you away from them if I didn’t have a good reason. The road’s all but flooded right now. Just give it a couple days, to be safe.”

And he did, though with some great reluctance. He had to admit though, Negan being so concerned about his safety was sweet.

The days at the Sanctuary were lazy ones, and Rick could tell that Negan was sympathetic to how bored Rick was without much to do, because he went out of his way to keep Rick company. He delegated tasks to Simon and Arat and stayed in bed with Rick until late in the morning, cuddling in a half-asleep state before rousing him to have lazy, slow morning sex, the two of them tangling up together beneath the sheets, bodies rocking in sweet synchronization until they were both undone and sweating despite the chill of the cool air around them.

During the times that Negan was busy, Rick would wander the Sanctuary, seeking out something to keep him entertained. He found his way to the lounge where Negan’s wives stayed most of the day, and actually spent some time with them. He found they were sweet women, and he enjoyed their company. He played games of chess with Sherry and talked about his favorite books with Tess and Amber. 

One evening, Negan had found his way to the lounge just as they’d started watching Ghostbusters. He joined them, cuddled on the couch, with Rick half-laying in his lap and one arm around Frankie. It was strange, Rick thought, all of them piled together, but for some reason, he didn’t mind. The closeness kept him warm, made him feel like he was a part of something, even if it was something he never would have expected.

His jealousy eased as well, and while there was still a twinge in his chest when Negan leaned over to plant an open kiss on Tanya’s lips in the middle of the movie, Rick didn’t feel hurt the way he had before when Negan left him for the night. What they had was anything but traditional, and Rick felt oddly secure in Negan’s affection for him.

It helped that Negan pulled him in seconds later to press their mouths together, pulling Rick fully onto his lap. Rick could feel Negan’s hands rub over his thighs and up to his hips, felt him reach back to grab his ass and rock their bodies together. Tanya leaned in to kiss at Negan’s neck, and Rick could feel the other women’s eyes on them, causing him to flush red. Negan drew Rick down to nip at his earlobe, hands still kneading soft flesh through coarse denim. “You wanna keep going, Rick?” his voice was a rumbling purr that Rick felt all the way down to his bones. “Have the girls join in?”

Rick spluttered, and he could feel how hot his face was, could only imagine just how flustered he looked. “I- I, ah. I don’t think- um…” He shook his head, and Negan chuckled into his ear, kissing the sensitive spot right behind it.

“You sure, Rick? I’m sure the girls wouldn’t mind having another dick in the mix, and yours is a  _ damn _ nice one, at that.” Rick received a teasing squeeze to the growing bulge in his pants, and he groaned into Negan’s shoulder, ducking his head in a vain attempt at hiding how aroused he was. “They ask about you a lot.  _ How’s Rick, are you bein’ nice to Rick _ , all that shit. I think they’d like watching me fuck you.”

Rick’s eyes blew wide and he drew back, staring at Negan’s smirking face in breathless shock, the image of Negan stripping him down and rocking into him while the women around them watched flooding his mind. “I, ah. I don’t- no.” As turned on as he was, the idea of being intimate with a woman who wasn’t Michonne was unbearable. He couldn’t do it.

Negan nodded, unbothered. “I figured that’d probably be your answer. That’s alright, Rick, just figured I’d check. Would’ve fucking kicked myself if I hadn’t, you know?”

Negan didn’t hold the rejection against him, just palmed the hardness between Rick’s thighs and asked if he wanted him to take care of that for him. Rick gave a fevered nod and Negan grinned triumphantly and all but hauled him out of the room with a goodbye to the amused women who were still half-watching the movie.

They made it as far as five steps down the empty hallway until Negan had Rick pushed up against the wall, one hand shoved down the front of his unbuckled jeans while Rick huffed and moaned and bit down on Negan’s neck to try to quiet the sounds escaping from him as he squirmed and spilled over Negan’s hand.

* * *

It was three days after his last visit that the flooding let up enough for Rick to finally be able to return to Alexandria. He left as early as he could, kissing Negan goodbye on his way out the door as he rushed to see his kids.

He stepped into his house to see Michonne and the others gathered around his kitchen table- which had seemingly become routine these days. The group nodded in acknowledgment as he stepped in, but he seemed to catch some surprising heat from Spencer- the man’s eyes cut into him with a tense look that Rick couldn’t read entirely. He dodged the look, pulling Carl into a hug.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, dad. Are you?” It was what they always asked first- if the other was okay. Rick was thankful that they never had a reason to give an answer other than yes. He squeezed his son’s shoulder and crouched down to place a kiss atop Judith’s head while she played on the living room floor before addressing the group.

“This a war meeting?”

Michonne nodded, gesturing to the papers spread out on the table- maps, scrawled strategies, weapon inventories, a rough layout of what looked to be the Sanctuary. Rick was surprised- the last time he’d attended one of these meetings, he’d assumed they were in the beginning stages. From the looks of this, they’d gotten a lot done in a very short period of time. It looked like they were ready to act pretty soon, in fact.

“Jesus showed up about a half hour ago. The Hilltop is with us,” Michonne said, her mouth set in a determined line. “Maggie and Sasha have already started training them. Gregory’s not thrilled, of course, but lucky for us, Maggie doesn’t need his permission to-”

“Should we really be telling him this?” Spencer suddenly interjected, his furious gaze still on Rick. Michonne frowned at him as the group turned to look at Spencer.

“Why the hell shouldn’t we? Rick is our leader, I think it’s pretty important that he knows what’s going on.”

Spencer laughed, short and mirthless. “He’s not our leader, Michonne.”

Michonne’s eyes were steel, cold and hard. “Last I recall, he  _ is _ , Spencer. Unless you’re making some misguided bid at that title for yourself here.”

“Oh, no. I’m just calling it like it is. Rick has no business calling himself the leader here anymore. You’re the one who’s been doing all the work. You’re the one who’s  _ actually here _ .” The words sliced through Rick, but he was determined not to let it show. Spencer had a point, after all.

“He’s right,” Rick conceded. “He’s right, Michonne, I can’t be here right now, and you’ve been taking care of everyone, Carl and Judith-” guilt choked Rick a little at that. “You’ve been leading them toward this war.”

Michonne’s face softened when she met his eyes. “Rick-”

“She doesn’t need your blessing to lead us, Rick. In fact, you really shouldn’t be at this meeting at all, should you?”

Rick’s jaw tightened. “You got somethin’ you wanna say to me, Spencer? Anything you wanna get off your chest? Go right ahead, I’m happy to hear it.”

Spencer’s mouth curled into a cruel smirk. “Oh, I don’t think it’s something you’ll want the whole group hearing, Rick, especially with your kid right here. But you know what, they deserve to know, don’t they? All of them?”

“What the hell are you going on about?” Rosita snapped from her seat beside Tara.

Spencer sat back in his chair, eyes boring into Rick’s. “Rick’s got a bit of a conflict of interest with this war. Don’t you, Rick?”

Rick’s stomach dropped out, horror creeping in.  _ No. No, there’s no fucking way he could know- _

“Yeah, I saw you the other day when you were here. With your  _ husband _ ,” Spencer spat, disgusted. “While the rest of us were standing around watching our hard-earned supplies get stolen, you were sucking face with the man who killed Glenn and Abraham- in the fucking  _ church _ . The  _ church _ , Rick, really? How do you think Gabriel feels about that? About you getting felt up by that psycho where he preaches?”

Rick remembered the noise by the backdoor of the church during the pickup the other day.  _ Shit. Oh God, no. _

He felt the weight of the entire group’s eyes on him, searching him for signs of guilt. Surprisingly, Carl was the first one to speak, and it was the quiet, wavering worry in his voice that made Rick feel like he was about to break. “Dad, he’s not…he’s lying, right? You said that you were okay- that he wasn’t- you said he wasn’t hurting you-”

Rick couldn’t hold his gaze, opting to stare at the papers on the table like they held the key to getting out of this mess. “He’s not, Carl. He’s not hurting me.”

“So Spencer’s lying, then?” Carl asked desperately, sounding younger than Rick had heard him sound in a very long time. And he couldn’t lie. He couldn’t. This was hardly how he wanted everyone to find out, but here it was.

“He’s not. Negan and I, we-”

“Are you fucking  _ kidding me _ ?” Rosita shouted, suddenly on her feet. “Is this a joke? You’re telling me that you’re actually  _ fucking  _ the guy who-” She shouldn’t finish her sentence, her face twisted in disgust.

“Rosita, I-”

The room erupted into chaos, Rosita and Spencer shouting at him, Tara and Jesus looking at him in abject horror. Daryl seemed unsure of what to do, exchanging a glance with Michonne, who looked torn between anger at Spencer for dropping the news like this and hurt. And Rick couldn’t blame her. She may have already known, but she surely didn’t want everyone to discover that Rick had betrayed her like this.

“I told you he shouldn’t be here! For all we know, he’s been feeding all the information from these meetings straight back to Negan.”

Rick choked, horrified that anyone would think he would choose Negan over his people’s safety. “I would  _ never- _ ”

“I bet that’s why Dwight was here,” Spencer added, “You and Negan sent him as a spy.”

“Why the hell would I need to send him if you think I’m already feeding him information?” Rick yelled, exasperated. “Which I’m  _ not _ . Do you really think I’d turn on all of you- my own friends, my  _ family _ , for him?  _ Jesus _ , have you forgotten what I’ve done for you people? I gave myself over to him, I’ve been trying to make things easier-”

Spencer barked a mocking laugh, taking a few strides forward to get up in Rick’s face. “Oh, and it’s been  _ such _ a punishment for you, hasn’t it? Yeah, you seemed real broken up about your  _ sacrifice _ while you were moaning as he offered to fuck you in the church-”

Rick’s face burned a shamed red at that, and Michonne stepped in, one hand in the middle of Spencer’s chest to shove him away from Rick. “Spencer,  _ enough _ .” She shot a pointed glance at Carl, who was adamantly looking away.

What was that Negan had said before about Carl not needing to know about his sex life? Rick silently wished for nothing more than to melt into the floor. 

“Is that what you call it, Rick? Is that how you justify spreading your legs for him, by telling yourself that you’re  _ making things easier _ for us?”

“That’s enough!” Michonne shouted, rounding on Spencer, who leered at Rick for a few more tense moments before stepping away. Rick could only focus on Carl, whose face was turned away from him.

“Carl. Carl, I-” Rick reached out for his son with one hand, and Carl jerked away. Rick caught the barest glimpse at this face, and the contempt in his eyes felt like a knife to the gut, cold steel slicing through soft flesh. “ _ Carl _ …”

“Get out of here.  _ Get out! _ ” 

Rick stumbled back from the table as if his son’s words were a slap. There was more yelling- from Spencer, from Rosita, furtive words exchanged between the rest of the group, but Rick couldn’t hear them anymore. Carl’s shout echoed in his head, ringing like a siren in his ears.

Michonne took him by the shoulder, guided him outside until they were on the porch. He had to force himself to look her in the eye, the weight of his guilt very nearly suffocating. “Michonne, I…you can’t think that I would really…I would never tell Negan about any of this, you know that, you  _ know _ me-”

She silenced him with a squeeze to his shoulders. “I know. I know that, Rick. But you can’t be here right now.”

Rick felt his heart shatter. “You can’t mean that.”

The gentleness in Michonne’s expression wasn’t something he deserved. “They need time to process this, Rick. Daryl and I will handle things, calm them down. We know that you…being with him…doesn’t change your allegiance to us. We  _ do _ . But this a lot for everyone else to handle, and we need to get things done today. You being here right now isn’t going to solve anything.”

Rick felt traitorous tears burning behind his eyes and blinked them away. The last thing he needed was to lose it like that, but the way his son had  _ looked  _ at him. “Carl…”

Michonne bit her lip. “I’ll talk to him, Rick. I will. I promise. But you need to go now.”

Rick nodded, the dip of his head feeling like defeat. He watched as Michonne disappeared back inside the house before retreating to the car, his chest aching.

_ What the hell am I going to do? They’re never going to trust me again- Carl will never- _

The thought nearly choked him, and he sped off, driving aimlessly down the road.

* * *

He didn’t return to the Sanctuary, not right away. Negan would know something was wrong if he came home so early, and the last thing Rick wanted to do was spend the day doing nothing- that would only allow him to wallow in the pits of his self-loathing. Instead, he took a long drive until he found a small, decrepit neighborhood nestled among a wooded road. He cleared it, cautious and meticulous, grabbing a sheet from one of the houses and knocking off a single walker to gut so he could mask his scent with the entrails. It was a small grove of houses off the beaten path, but mostly untouched, so he hauled all he could out- cans of food, bottles of painkillers, a box of diapers for Judith. He dumped the gory sheet on an overgrown before he returned to the car, not feeling much better. Sure, the supplies were  _ something _ \- but it wasn’t enough. He felt like he could spend the rest of his life trying to make up for today and it wouldn’t be enough.

When Rick got back to the Sanctuary, it was past dark, but he couldn’t bring himself to climb the steps to Negan’s room. He wanted to, shamefully- he craved the comfort, the feeling of another person’s arms around him- but he couldn’t let himself.

_ You don’t deserve to be comforted. You’re not the one who was wronged here. You’re just going to go crawling back to him, prove everyone at home right. _

Instead, Rick made his way to his old room. It was strange walking back down this hall after being away for a couple of weeks. He located his old room easily and pushed the door open, only to realize immediately that it wasn’t empty.

“Rick! I gotta say, this is a bit of a surprise visit, man. You wanna tell me why you’re just barging in here like you own the damn place?” Simon asked, looking half-annoyed, half-amused from his place reclining on the bed. Rick shuffled awkwardly, not sure what to say.

“I, ah-”

“Don’t tell me you and Negan are on the fucking outs again. Jesus, that was a miserable two weeks. That man just about bitched both my ears off.”

Rick had to resist the ridiculous urge to laugh at the notion of a grumpy Negan complaining to Simon about him. “No, it’s not- we’re…” He trailed off pitifully. “I just needed a night to myself.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed like he was trying to get a read on Rick. “Well, you can’t fucking stay here. The boss would have a shitfit if I cuddled up with your ass, and I’m not leaving. Finally got me a room with a shower.”

Rick sighed. “Right. I’ll go.”

He went, closing the door behind him and wandering the tomblike halls of the Sanctuary, unsure of where to go. He briefly considered trying to find Tanya or Frankie’s rooms- they’d been the friendliest to him, and would likely be sympathetic and let him crash on their floor. But he didn’t know where they slept, and he wasn’t sure if him spending the night with one of them would draw Negan’s jealous ire, so he kept walking.

He ended up outside, weaving through the beginnings of the garden in the back lot. He wasn’t entirely sure why- maybe he just needed to be somewhere that reminded him that there was more to Negan than everyone else saw. Somewhere there was potential for change and growth, for a life beyond the war that was brewing just below the cracked surface of their world. There was a chill in the air outside- it got much colder in Virginia than it did in Georgia, and it seemed that snow could be a very real threat come winter. He was thankful for the thick material of his coat pulled snugly around him, and he tried not to remember the way he’d felt just a handful of days ago, when Negan had draped the warmth of his leather jacket over his shoulders. It was intimate gestures like that- the small things- that tripped Rick up the most, because Negan didn’t even seem to realize how much weight they held, how much potential.

He thought back on the day’s events with a nauseating sense of dread. Masochistically, he wondered how much Spencer had seen the other day in the church. He could clearly remember himself lost in the heady fog of arousal, Negan’s hands roaming over his ass and between his legs.

_ Fuck. Don’t think about it. _

Rick was so lost in the cloud of his thoughts that he didn’t notice the man coming up beside him until he heard the familiar rumble of a deep voice.

“Rick? The fuck are you doing out here?”

The sound of Negan’s voice didn’t startle him. It made sense- it wasn’t like Negan had established himself as someone who would let things like Rick not showing up where he was supposed to go unnoticed. A warm hand rested on the small of Rick’s back, and Rick turned into the taller man. Negan must have caught a sliver of the turmoil in his expression, because he backed away when he saw Rick’s face. “Hey. Fuck. You alright, Rick? You had me nearly shitting my pants just now, I thought…” Rick caught the way Negan’s jaw clenched a flicker of emotion in his eye that Rick was too scared to interpret. “I thought something happened to you. You never get back this late and…fuck. I don’t fucking know.”

Rick didn’t want to see it, but the look on Negan’s face said it all: he’d been worried. And, fuck, if it wasn’t shit like that that made everything harder. There were few things more terrifying than a Negan that wore his heart on his sleeve. It was too much, too genuine, and it made it too easy for Rick to fall right back into him, because he could tell that Negan really meant it. He could also tell that Negan didn’t have a damn clue what to do with it, either: he looked like his own sentiment for Rick was just as much a mystery to himself.

So what could Rick say? “I didn’t mean to…to worry you, I guess.” He almost expected the man to deny it, but he didn’t.

“It’s alright. Glad you’re okay.  _ Fuck _ ,” He chuckled, rubbing a hand over his stubbly jaw, “The things you fuckin’ do to me, Rick.”

_ You have no idea, Negan. _

“So what the hell are you doing out here, anyway?” Negan asked. “You look…well, I’m not gonna fucking lie to you, baby, you look like hell. Still gorgeous as-fucking-ever, but you look like you don’t know your head from your ass.”

Rick couldn’t even conjure up a laugh at that. “I need some time to myself, I guess.”

A complicated array of emotions flashed across Negan’s face- worry, fear, hurt, dejection, annoyance- before settling on a calm acceptance that didn’t look  _ too  _ forced. “Alright. Is this…is this like the last time you needed time to yourself?”

They both knew what he was referring to, what he was asking:  _ Are you trying to call this off again? _

“No,” Rick admitted, “No, it’s not like that. I just need a night. One night.”

All those months ago, when Rick had first come here, it would have been inconceivable to ask for a night away from Negan. The man had dictated every interaction, every night together. It was a sign of how much they’d changed that Negan nodded. “Alright, darlin’. Do you…do you want to get any of that shit I can see rolling around in your head out in the open?”

Rick nearly snorted. What was he supposed to say? _ Everyone I care about found out about the two of us- like you said they would- and they’re all disgusted? My own son can’t look me in the eye? There’s no way they’ll ever trust me completely again? _

“No. I just need a place to sleep.”

Negan nodded again, and Rick noticed how he was working to keep his distance, give Rick his space. His usual lilting manner was lessened, and Negan’s hands stayed resolutely in his jacket pockets instead of wandering into Rick’s space as they so often did when they were together. “I can fucking do that. There’s an empty room on the floor below ours. Third one on your left. It’s yours for the night.”

“Thank you,” Rick murmured, and Negan reached out as if to give his shoulder a squeeze before thinking better of it, his arm dropping back by his side.

“No problem, Rick. Now get your ass inside. It’s fucking cold out here.”

* * *

Rick left after Negan, climbing the stairs to the spare room, nearly missing the floor and walking to Negan’s room out of routine. When he opened the door, he was greeted with a room smaller than his last one, containing a single bed, a dresser, and a small kitchen area with a countertop and a microwave. It had the clean-but-musty look of a room that rarely saw use. Rick tugged off his jacket and jeans and crawled into the bed- it wasn’t nearly as comfortable as Negan’s, he thought childishly. It was smaller, colder, the sheets a rough cotton. He laughed at himself, then, out loud and rumbling in the dark- did he really get so spoiled by Negan so fast?

Then again, his bed in Alexandria had been more comfortable than this, too.

He left his watch on his wrist, trying to focus on the steady ticking of the seconds in hopes that the rhythm would lull him to sleep.

It didn’t. The tiny heartbeat couldn’t drown out the noise in his head, lapping at the edges of his mind like waves against a rocking boat.

He missed Negan. It was a jarring, horrible realization, but as soon as he dared to acknowledge it, the thought consumed him. He missed the warmth of arms around him, the steady breaths against the nape of his neck, the solid presence of a body curled behind his own. He didn’t like sleeping alone- he hadn’t liked it back in Alexandria after he and Michonne had gotten together either. It had only been two nights that they’d slept apart since the initial night they’d spent together- both of them because she’d been out on a long run with Daryl- and both nights, he’d missed her terribly. He remembered feeling the same way in the prison, even though the memories were faded and worn at the edges, their clarity lost to time and grief. All those nights he’d chosen to shut Lori out, and then all the months after, when he’d cursed himself for wasting the short time they’d had together before she’d died. He’d hated himself for pushing her away, hated that it was only in hindsight that he could long for what he was missing.

And that thought was enough to rouse him from the bed. His bare feet hit the floor, and he made a split-second decision, half-pulling his clothes and boots back on and abandoning the tiny room to climb the stairs to the next floor up. There was a guard outside Negan’s room- he recognized her, the woman named Arat. She didn’t look surprised to see Rick, but she never seemed too surprised by much of anything. She stepped aside and let him through wordlessly.

It was dark in the room aside from the moonlight filtering in from the windows. Negan was sound asleep, not waking when Rick stepped in and closed the door behind him, shedding his clothes again. He crawled into the warmth of the bed beside Negan, and that was when the other man stirred, grunting sleepily.

“Simon I swear to God if you’re trying to pull this shit again I’m gonna-”

“It’s me, Negan.” Rick murmured.  _ Simon?  _ he thought. A question for another time, maybe.

“Rick? The fuck are you…? I told you you could sleep in another room.”

“I know. I know, I just…” He swallowed hard, feeling foolish. “I didn’t want to.”

His words weren’t greeted with mocking like he thought they would be- Negan was probably too tired. Instead, he was dragged in closer, arm around his waist, until his head was tucked under Negan’s chin. Rick hesitated for a moment before curling one arm around the larger man, pulling them closer together.

“Well, it’s good to have you back, baby,” Negan sounded a little more like himself now, the haze of sleep clearing from his deep voice. “You wanna talk about what’s got you so upset?”

Rick sighed, his fingertips biting into the muscle of Negan’s shoulder. He couldn’t say what was wrong- not really, not all of it. Everything went so deep- the discovery of his relationship with Negan didn’t begin to cover it. It was the guilt of it all, the shame, the complicated but all-too-real feelings he had for the man beside him. It was the fear of war and what it meant for both his friends and Negan, and it was even more guilt that he cared what happened to Negan at all. And he couldn’t say any of that, not without tipping Negan off about what Alexandria had planned, but he felt other words bubbling up out of him, ridiculous, sentimental words that he felt in his very core.

“I wish I’d met you before you became all of this,” Rick whispered against Negan’s bare chest. “Before the Saviors and the wives and the giant fucking ego. I wish, somehow, that we’d crossed paths before you did what you did, so I didn’t feel like I have to hate you. So everyone that I care about didn’t have to hate you. I keep thinkin’ about what it would have been like if we’d found each other a couple years ago, back in Atlanta, or at the Prison or just as some random straggler along the way. I keep thinkin’ about what it would have been like to wake up in the hospital, and have you be there, mourning Lucille as the world went to shit, and us starting off in this new world together. And I know none of that could have ever happened, because all of the timing was wrong, but I keep thinkin’ about it anyway, because if that had been the case, we could have really fucking  _ been _ somethin’. We could have been absolutely unstoppable if we were on the same team. But we’re not, we’re just fucking not, and I don’t know how we’re going to make this work if this is how things are.”

Negan was silent for a long moment after Rick stopped speaking, and Rick felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for the barrage of mockery or scorn or anger that would inevitably get thrown back at him for saying something like that- for admitting that he wished that he and Negan could be something more than the mess that they were.

It didn’t come. What did come was a press of soft lips to the top of his head as he was pulled flush against Negan, and words that sounded nearly as lost as Rick felt.

“I don’t know how we’re gonna make this work either, Rick. I don’t. I’m not kidding myself here, I know I’m not gonna be able to keep you around forever. I keep waiting for you to snap and drop me for good. But I’m gonna enjoy every fucking second that I have you until you’re gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running out of prewritten chapters for this at the same time that my other chaptered fic is coming to an end (thank god for luck and timing), so hopefully there won't be a change in how often these chapters get posted. Again, thanks so much for reading this!


	8. Chapter 8

Rick was ashamed to admit that it took him a day to work up the nerve to return to Alexandria in the wake of his…what would he even call it? A revelation? An outing? The thought crossed his mind the first morning after, nearly making manic laugher bubble up in his chest. It  _ had _ been an outing of sorts, he supposed- he didn’t think anyone was aware that he was also into men, it had never come up. But he knew that Negan being a man was the least of everyone’s issues with what he was doing.

Negan was cautious around him the day after, seeming to pick up on Rick’s fragile mood. He didn’t pry when Rick opted to stay at the Sanctuary and work on the garden for the day, didn’t try to force an explanation about what prompted his glum mood. When Rick returned to their bedroom that evening, Negan had pulled him into his arms and kissed him long and slow, large hands smoothing over his sides. It took him a minute, but he picked up on Rick’s hesitance, drawing away from his lips to cast him an imploring look.

“You alright, Rick? You not in the mood tonight or something?”

Rick almost lied- even though his jealousy had mostly waned away, a small, needy part of him didn’t want Negan to leave, even if just for an hour or so. As much as he knew he shouldn’t , especially now, he craved the closeness, the comfort of another person beside him.

“I- no,” Rick admitted, nuzzling in closer despite his thoughts. “Don’t wanna- can you just stay with me?” He hated how pathetic the request was-  _ I don’t want to fuck, can you just hold me while I fall asleep?  _ It somehow seemed worse than asking for sex, more intimate. He couldn’t have blamed Negan if he laughed him right out the door. And he saw the smirk playing on his lips- a cocky thing, triumphant and gloating, but not spiteful. Negan was never malicious in his teasing anymore, and Rick counted it as a small mercy.

“You just want me to cuddle with you, Rick?” He looked like the Cheshire cat, all smiles and wide eyes. It was nearly enough to make Rick shove him away and tell him he changed his mind.

But he didn’t.

“Yeah, if you can stand one night without sticking your dick in someone,” Rick retorted. Negan always liked it better when he bit back, anyway, and he felt the need to push, to not be shoved down like he felt he was. Everything at home had left him feeling so battered and bruised, and he hated that, the vulnerability and  _ hurt _ of it. Ever since he’d come to terms with his attraction to Negan, he’d felt like he’d gained a precarious hold on himself and his shattered self-esteem, but yesterday had sent it crumbling back to the ground.

The taller man practically bounced on his heels. “Course I can, Rick! Went plenty of nights without it while I was fucking waitin’ on you, didn’t I?”

Rick tried to force back the pleased smile. “Fair enough.”

Rick couldn’t help but wonder if he had someone coaching him on how to be a decent husband or something like that, because the way Negan respectfully gave him his space without needing to ask was utterly out of character for him.

_ Maybe he’s just learning _ .

Rick wondered, while he lay in the man’s arms, if that was too much to hope for.

* * *

Rick woke up the next morning to Negan squirming restlessly against his back. His eyelids were still heavy with sleep when they fluttered open, and the light pooling into the room from the window was low and tinged with a sleepy orange-  _ way too early to be awake _ , Rick thought mutinously. He curled back into himself, tugging the blankets up to his chin to escape the nip of cool air that had rushed in. Negan made a soft, breathy noise behind him- something close to a moan, and Rick nudged at his calf with a bare foot. “It’s too damn early to be up, Negan. Quit squirmin’.”

The older man grunted at the sound of Rick’s voice, stirring behind him. “Oh, wha’ the fuck-” he grumbled, a tired, groggy sound. One hand slid over Rick’s hip. “The hell’d you have to wake me up for, Rick?” he mumbled, muffled by the way he was speaking into Rick’s shoulder.

Rick snorted despite his exhaustion. “I woke  _ you _ up? You were the one wigglin’ around like a damn worm.”

“Yeah, there’s a reason for that, too,” Negan mumbled, arm winding around Rick’s waist and tugging him back so that their hips were flush against each other and-  _ oh _ . Well,  _ that _ certainly explained the squirming.

Negan breathed warmly against Rick’s neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end while he nudged the persistent bulge in his boxers against Rick’s ass. “Was havin’ a  _ real _ nice dream before you started kickin’ me, Rick.”

Rick felt his face grow warm, his hips subtly rolling back against Negan. “That so?”

Negan’s lips ghosted over his neck, brushing light kisses right above the collar of his shirt. “Yep. Real fuckin’ nice.” He slid his hand beneath the hem of Rick’s shirt, warm palm gliding up his stomach. “You were there. Star of the whole fuckin’ show, actually.” Fingers found one of Rick’s nipples, thumbing over it before giving it a teasing pinch to coax it to hardness. Rick made a small noise deep in his throat.

“Yeah?” He was the one squirming now as Negan’s fingers danced across his chest to lavish attention to his other nipple. He loathed that needy hitch in his breath- in just a few short hours he’d be back home, having to deal with the aftermath of everyone finding out about him and Negan. He should be pulling away, he knew that. Spencer outing him should have been a wake-up call. Instead, he felt helpless to Negan’s wandering hands. He felt splintered- and maybe that was how he should feel, torn and terrified. He’d made such a mess of things, and he couldn’t fathom how to begin to make it right, so he just gave in to the one thing that felt good right now- Negan.

“Yeah,” Negan purred, “You were havin’ a grand ol’ time, too, bouncin’ on my cock so nice.  _ Fuck _ ,” he whined, his voice still thick with sleep as he was grinding against Rick’s backside, “you look so damn good ridin’ me, baby. So fuckin’ sexy, your tight little ass just swallowing me right up-” he bucked up against Rick needily, the thin layers of fabric feeling more confining than they should. His hand slid down and dipped between Rick’s thighs, cupping the hardness that his words had made swell there. “Oh, baby, you fuckin’ want me? Did I make you hard?”

Rick huffed out a noise between a laugh and a moan,  _ because really, Negan? This early? _ Despite the heaviness of his eyelids, he still found himself thrusting into Negan’s hand. He really, really  _ did _ want him- now that he was all worked up, at least- but…“Too tired to ride,” he mumbled, and his hand found Negan’s covering it and guiding it to work his cock faster. “Need- need somethin’, though.”

Negan chuckled, the sound sweet in its drowsiness. “Oh, I can  _ feel _ that, darlin’. You’re hard as steel for me right now. You just want me to jerk you off? Cause I can do that, but I had somethin’ else in mind.”

“’S long as I can lay here like this, you can do whatever you want,” Rick replied, and Negan shook with vigorous laughter behind him.

“ _ Jesus _ , Rick. You know how to wind me up, you know that? Fuck, if I wasn’t so damn tired, sayin’ shit like that could get you into some  _ real _ trouble, baby.” His hand disappeared from Rick’s cock for a moment, and Rick heard him fumbling around for a few aching moments before he rolled back over, fingers dancing over the waistband of Rick’s boxers before sliding them down his hips. He pressed in close, and Rick could feel the heated line of Negan’s cock hard and thick against his ass. “Too fuckin’ bad I can hardly keep my eyes open. I got a feelin’ you won’t make that offer again so damn lightly.” Wet fingers rubbed at the rim of Rick’s opening, giving him a second to adjust before they sank into him.

“Oh, Christ,  _ Negan _ -”

“That’s right, darlin’,” Negan crooned, voice thick and warm as maple syrup, “Gonna fuck you nice and slow.”

And he did, his slick cock replacing the fingers after he got Rick shaking and sweating against his chest. He slid inside slowly, one hand gripping Rick’s ass to open him up. He rocked into him gently, cradling Rick to his chest like he was something precious. Rick’s head lolled back until they were sharing one pillow, Negan’s mouth finding his neck. “So good, Rick. Fuck, you- you feel so damn good.” Their hips rolled together, Rick’s eyes fluttering closed on the nudges inward, lids still heavy with sleep. He was just about to reach down to take his cock in hand when Negan beat him to the punch, gripping him tight and pumping him with smooth, even strokes. “So hard for me,” he moaned, mouthing over the curve of Rick’s shoulder, and Rick managed a breathless laugh.

“Sun’s barely up an’ you already can’t keep your damn mouth shut, can you?” He didn’t mind- God knows that Negan could probably tell that it made him even harder.

“You love it,” Negan confirmed, and what could Rick say when he was that close, when Negan was fucking him so good that he could barely tell where he was? A couple more wet tugs at his leaking dick while Negan’s cock parted him, and he was gone, whimpering and writhing while the world spun out from under him. He could feel how it got Negan off, the way the man’s body went stiff against him before wet heat flooded inside of him.

Rick felt like putty in Negan’s hands after, letting himself be turned and manhandled into Negan’s arms, his head tucked into the taller man’s broad chest. “Well,” Negan said into his hair, “Don’t know about you, but I’m even more tired than before.”

* * *

Rick had quietly hoped that his return to Alexandria wouldn’t be as uncomfortable as he’d built it up to be in his head.

It wasn’t.

It was worse.

Word had clearly gotten around in the day and a half he’d been gone- Rick couldn’t even say he was surprised. It wasn’t like Spencer- or anyone else, for that matter- had a reason to keep the information to themselves. Eugene stared at him in that flat, odd way that he did, his expression betraying nothing. It didn’t have to though- the lack of response when Rick greeted him and the way the gate slammed a little too hard on its way shut was enough for Rick to get the idea.

He never thought the day would arrive when he missed the pitying, concerned glances that he used to catch people giving him right after he’d been whisked away to the Sanctuary, but after being on the receiving end of several dirty looks just on the way to his house, he could honestly say he wasn’t a fan of the change. At least he’d known that there had been a core of care behind the looks he’d been getting before- now he got the distinct impression that there was very little keeping him from being run out of town.

He suspected Michonne probably had something to do with that, and a fresh twinge of guilt bloomed in his chest. The last thing she deserved was having to clean up the mess he’d left in his wake. If he’d ever felt unworthy of her companionship and loyalty before, it had nothing on how he loathed himself now.

It took Rick about an hour of scouring Alexandria and asking around to realized that Carl was actively avoiding him. He’d gone to Michonne first, asked to make sure he was actually here and not scavenging or taking a trip to visit Enid.

“No, he’s here,” She said cautiously, her lips curving into a frown. “He, ah. Rick, he may not want to see you. I know you don’t want to hear that, but he just…he’s going to need some time.”

Childishly, Rick wanted to pout, wanted to ask her how much time, plead for her to find him and get him to the house so they could at least talk. He’d take anything Carl could throw at him- insults, abuse, rage. He’d never thought he’d be the kind of father to allow his child to lash out at him like that without consequence, but…he couldn’t imagine that Carl would say much that wasn’t true. Nitpicking vulgar language seemed like it would be a message laughably lost on Carl, given what Rick had been up to lately.

He’d take his son’s rage over silence any day. At least he could  _ see _ him then.

In the end, he ended up going out on a quick scavenge with Michonne, raiding a derelict gas station a short drive away. She, Daryl, and Gabriel were among the few that weren’t spitting fire at him with scorching glances, so he figured he’d made the right call in trusting them before.

“I’m sorry,” Rick croaked for what must have been the tenth time since they’d left together. He seemed compelled to say it every time silence lapsed between them. It had to be noted that Michonne never told him that it was okay- it was always  _ stop _ or  _ you don’t need to keep saying that, Rick _ . Somehow, that made him feel better than if she was to try to convince him that everything was fine when it so clearly was not.

“Rick, really. You need to stop,” She sighed as they cut down a couple of ambling walkers that had gathered in the gravel parking lot while they’d been inside, giving her katana a brisk shake to slough off some of the discolored gore. “You know that’s not helping anything. And-” She cut herself off, shaking her head, and Rick frowned.

“And what?”

She didn’t spare him a look, just kept walking, hefting the bag of nearly-expired pain pills and beef jerky they’d found over her shoulder. “And you don’t really mean it, so I’d rather you not say it.”

Rick felt his whole body jerk in horror. “Michonne, I-”

“You don’t mean it enough to stop sleeping with him, I mean,” She corrected. “I’m sure you’re sorry everyone found out this way. I know you’re sorry about that. And I’m sure that you feel guilty for sleeping with him, but you haven’t stopped, so…” She slung the bag into the trunk and slid into the driver’s seat.

“I can’t say anything to make this better. I know that.” Rick stared down at his hands, shame burning in his throat like bile, choking him. She was right, there was no denying it- he could apologize to her, to Carl, to everyone over and over, but none of it really meant anything if he was still sleeping with Negan, did it?

He wished he could promise her that it would stop. He’d hurt her in particular, and he knew it- even though they’d let things die off between them before he and Negan had taken up together, there had been an unspoken promise there between them-  _ when we get you back, when all of this ends, we’ll try again _ . Rick had a sinking feeling that that was no longer the case.

He wanted to promise her that it would stop, but he’d lied to her enough lately. So he bit the inside of his cheek and stayed silent on the drive back.

Carl was back at the house when Rick and Michonne returned home. He pointedly refused eye contact with Rick, ignoring him when he called out his name.

“Carl, please-” Rick reached out to him, feeling more broken than he had in months. He already felt so thin and worn, cloth ready to tear at the seams. When Carl shoved his hand away, Rick swore he could feel himself rip.

“I fed Judith,” he said curtly to Michonne. “I’m going shooting with Daryl.”

That stung- the sudden crushing knowledge that Carl would rather be around Daryl than him. It felt like a blow to the chest, and for a pained minute Rick could only stand there and wonder if he was slowly being replaced in his absence. The idea made him feel ill, and whether or not that  _ particular _ slight was intentional, Rick felt it nonetheless. He watched Carl bang out the front door, his throat thick with unshed tears.

“I should go,” he choked out. He knew that the suggestion was on the tip of Michonne’s tongue and he couldn’t bear to hear her say it. He considered it a small act of mercy that she walked beside him to the gate where his car was parked, neither of them speaking.

He couldn’t manage to make his mouth form a goodbye, so he just started the car. Right as he was about to close the door, Michonne stopped him, turning his face gently toward hers with a warm hand on his cheek. His breath caught at the sudden sweetness, and he forced himself to meet her eyes- sad, regretful, resolute.

“This will all be over soon, Rick. I promise. He’ll come around. It will all be okay.”

He nearly cried then- it was so much more than he deserved, her tenderness, her reassurance.

“Thank you.”

* * *

There was something wrong with Rick when he returned to the Sanctuary, and Negan noticed it immediately. It wasn’t just the fact that he was home in the middle of the afternoon rather than late evening like he usually was either. No, it was the fragile, morose way that Rick slumped into their bedroom, his eyes wet and expression bleak. “Rick, baby,” Negan soothed, stroking gently through his soft curls, “What’s wrong? Everything alright on the fuckin’ homefront? The kiddos doing okay?” There was no denying that something was up- it seemed that more and more these days, Rick was coming home to him looking either miserable or angry. Rick typically explained it away as missing his kids or a stressful supply run, but Negan couldn’t quell the fear that it was something more.

That maybe the  _ something _ that was bothering Rick was the fact that he was coming home to Negan.

“I’m fine,” Rick murmured. He was doing a piss-poor imitation of a person who was fine, and Negan had caught the imperceptible flinch when he’d mentioned Rick’s kids, but Negan had to assume that if something was really wrong with one of them, Rick wouldn’t be back so soon. “Long day.”

Negan drew him into his arms, kissing the top of his head, a needy, possessive impulse suddenly gripping him. “You want something to eat, darlin’? I can order something up and we can have a nice fucking meal, turn in early?”

Rick nodded weakly, burying his face into Negan’s chest. “Okay.” He sounded so damn  _ vulnerable _ \- it wasn’t something Negan was used to, not like this. He usually loved Rick’s bouts of vulnerability- when he was with his kids, when he was in Negan’s arms, coming apart underneath him. It was a side that not many got to see, he was pretty sure of that. He got the feeling that Rick, while very much a man who cared deeply about those he loved, also had a bit of trouble expressing that love sometimes. Negan counted himself very, very lucky to have the privilege of seeing Rick with his guard down- whether it be with his arms open or his legs spread.

He settled Rick onto the bed and intertwined their bodies comfortably before radioing down to the kitchen for dinner- “Chicken with that red sauce you made, and some peaches.” He turned into the curve of Rick’s lean body, his hands coming to rub soothing over Rick’s tense back. “Rick, I don’t meant to fucking pry…but I’m gonna start fucking prying here, because something’s clearly wrong. It seems like every damn time you spend the day away you come back even more mopey than before- and that’s fucking saying something, because you can be one mopey son of a bitch sometimes, Rick.”

Rick couldn’t even be bothered to summon up an annoyed glare at that, and that didn’t sit well with Negan in the least. He’d gotten so used to their biting banter, the way Rick wouldn’t take any of his shit. A long time ago, he would have reveled in Rick being so compliant; now, it felt hollow. “Rick, come the fuck on now. Is something going on? That kid of yours got a girlfriend you don’t like? Is there-” he slammed the brakes on his words, realizing what was about to come out of his mouth-  _ Is there enough food and shit that people aren’t going hungry? _ The fact that he even  _ considered _ asking, was even remotely concerned about that, shocked the hell out of him. And it wasn’t just out of self-preservation, either- Alexandria had been holding up their end of the bargain consistently. Rick had never said anything to indicate that they were struggling back home, but-

_ But why the hell would he tell you? _ Negan thought bitterly.  _ You would be the reason for it. _

Negan was thankful for the delivery of their food- it distracted him from the muddled landscape of his thoughts. Joey, Negan’s usual delivery guy, held a tray of chicken aloft, and Negan reached over Rick to accept it when everything happened at once.

One second, Negan was reaching for their dinner and the next, the very foundation of the Sanctuary seemed to shake with a sudden, horrifyingly loud  _ bang _ that made the three men jump in fear. The tray clattered to the ground and out of Joey’s hands, sauce exploding across the floor and onto the furniture, a grim red stain that looked nearly like blood.

_ Was that a fucking bomb? An explosive? What the fuck- _

Negan was ripped violently from his thoughts by the sound of gunshots- not just a couple either, a barrage, loud even through the confines of glass and concrete.

_ They’re coming from outside. _

There was fear- real fear on both Joey and Rick’s faces, and Negan jumped into action, scrambling out of the bed and grabbing Lucille from her place on the couch. “What the fuck are you two doing sitting there with your dicks in your hands?” He barked, grabbing Joey by the arm of his jacket and shoving him toward the door. “Let’s fucking  _ move _ !”

Joey was out the door in a second, and Rick was on his feet, eyes wide. “Negan, what…?”

Negan jerked his head. “Come the fuck on, and stay behind me!” Rick obeyed like a soldier in battle, falling into place behind Negan and following him through the chaos of the hallways.

_ Shit, fuck. People are panicking already, what the fuck is going on-? _

Negan gripped Rick’s wrist with one hand and wove through the halls, trying to keep Lucille held high enough on his shoulder so as not to smack any of the people bustling past them. “Hey!” He shouted, and people turned, well trained to pick his voice out from a crowd. “Everyone calm the fuck down and stay where you are! I’m gonna fucking handle this, and I can’t fucking do that with people running around underfoot like fucking ants! As you fucking were, and  _ keep your goddamn heads down! _ ”

Good fucking thing he’d stomped obedience into these people ages ago, because they all complied with his shouted instructions immediately, the crowd in the hallway parting like the red sea and huddling against the heavy walls.

At that, Negan swept down the stairs, Rick in tow, until he got out to the front loading dock. He had to bark his way through a crowd of people huddled around the opening again, and caught sight of Simon and Arat standing near the front. He overheard a few errant mutterings as he made his way through.

_ Guns…brought buses full…had an explosive…going to kill him…is that a tiger? _

He and Rick spilled out onto the landing and Negan’s jaw clenched at the sight he was met with- a large group of people standing out beyond the front gates, guns held aloft. At the sight of him, someone toward the front of the group shouted his name- and Rick’s.

And that was another thing- the group out front was all too familiar. He could make out several familiar faces just by doing a quick sweep- Rick’s former lover, the widow of the Asian kid he’d killed all those months ago, the leader of the Kingdom, whom he’d only met once- with an actual living, breathing, goddamned tiger in tow, sitting dutifully alongside the man.

_ Shit. Shit, what the actual fuck was this- _

“Negan!” Rick’s girlfriend-  _ shit what was her name again? _ \- shouted, stepping out from the din of the crowd. Negan felt Rick jerk beside him, his breathing ragged.

_ “Michonne…” _ he sounded nearly pained, and that only made Negan grit his teeth harder. A quick glance to his left showed the cause of the earlier rattling boom- they must have had some kind of explosive, because what used to be an extra storage unit was now a smoldering pile of rubble, flames and smoke still licking the sky around it. Unbridled rage boiled up in Negan’s chest.

“Good thing that was fucking  _ empty _ , you pricks!” He shouted across the gate. “What the fuck is this? We trying to play my dick is bigger than your dick? Because I can fucking  _ guarantee _ that your sorry asses are gonna come up  _ real _ fucking short!” Actually, with the size of that crowd, they probably wouldn’t come up nearly as short as Negan would have liked, and the thought made him fucking twitchy.

“That’s not what this is!” Michonne called back. “This isn’t a threat. It’s an offer. One last offer for peace between us before this gets out of hand. We are three communities united against you, Negan! We’re drawing the line here-  _ no more! _ We’re through kneeling to you, we’re through with allowing you to steal what’s rightfully ours.”

Negan barked a harsh laugh at that. “Is that fucking so?” He guffawed, “And you plan on- what? Fighting your way in here? Got more explosives to throw at us? Never mind all the civilians we got in here, right? Don’t mind taking out a few- or a lot- of innocent people just as long as you get your way, do you? Because- let me fucking guess-  _ you think you’re the greater good _ ?” He sneered, the self-righteousness, the  _ hypocrisy _ , making him sick. Fucking people like this, they always thought they were the greater good. Negan had no qualms admitting that what he was creating wasn’t necessarily good- just fucking necessary. Something more than just fucking  _ surviving _ .

“No,” Michonne shook her head. “We don’t want to fight- we will if we have to, but we’d prefer it not come to that. We’re asking you to stand down- come peacefully. We’re not going to harm the innocent- we’re here for you and your soldiers.”

Negan smirked. “And just what the fuck are you planning on doing with us.”

Michonne’s face was impassive. “You die.”

Negan very nearly laughed aloud at that- he wondered how the hell these people didn’t fucking choke with the audacity of it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered Rick sucking in a hissing breath behind him. “So let me get this fucking straight. You want me to surrender myself and all of my soldiers- which is one goddamned  _ assload _ of people, by the fucking way- so we can be put to death? That’s your fucking offer? You’ve had fucking  _ months _ to come up with this shit, and that’s the most convincing thing you can think of?” He rocked back on his heels, shaking his head. “I’m fucking disappointed. What the fuck is your backup plan when I refuse your fucking offer?”

Michonne’s face was a hard line, echoed throughout the collective faces in the crowd behind her. “Then we fight our way in there. And I don’t think you’ll like the outcome very much.”

Negan laughed mockingly. “You know what? I’ve considered your generous offer…and I’m thinking my answer is somewhere between  _ no motherfucking way _ and  _ go fucking fuck yourselves _ ! This is a goddamned  _ joke _ !”

At that, Michonne drew her sword, and suddenly Arat and Simon materialized beside Negan from the crowd behind him, sniper rifles in tow. They each fired shots off into the crowd, and the rebels erupted into gunfire, some aiming for Negan and the others, some diving behind the buses they’d brought to take cover while the Saviors poured out onto the landing and into the front clearing, ready to fight. Negan lunged at Rick, seizing him by the collar and shoving him ungently into the safety of the Sanctuary. He held him against the wall, not looking at him, mind reeling. “Fucking cocksucking motherfucking  _ fuck _ -” he seethed.

The sound of shattering glass skewed his racing thoughts, and he and the other Saviors stared, watching as the rebels shot out the class windows. “What the fucking fuck are they-” he broke off suddenly and grabbed Rick again, dragging him alongside as he shoved through the confused crowd and descended the stairs down the landing.

The shooting had stopped, the rebels now all gathered back into their vehicles and speeding away. All except for one. “Oh, fuck,” Negan gritted out, fingers tight in the front of Rick’s shirt.

“What?” Rick had the audacity to ask.

“Look.”

They both did, and it was only due to Negan already having spotted it that they dodged it in time.

“Get the fuck out of the way!” Negan shouted, diving to the side and dragging Rick to the ground with him while they both watched, horrified and shocked, as a lone vehicle plowed through the front gates of the Sanctuary with alarming speed. The squeal of tires and metal shredding metal assaulted their ears as the truck took out both sides of the gate, leaving a ragged gap in the fence. Negan breathed heavily, shaking with adrenaline, his body draped over Rick’s protectively-  _ god only knows why I’m still doing that shit _ , he thought bitterly. There was a violent, sickening crunch, and then the smell of burned rubber and smoke as they looked up to see that the truck had crashed headlong into the concrete wall of the factory.

With the rest of the shooters on the retreat, Negan was free to bolt over to the truck. Rick skidded to a stop behind him, and they both took a good look at the driver, who had managed to extricate herself from the smoldering wreckage of her vehicle and was now crouched on the ground, battered from the impact but very much alive.

“S- _ Sasha? _ ” Rick wheezed, sounding pained and horrified. Negan recognized her immediately- she wasn’t too bloodied up, and he wasn’t one to forget a pretty face like that. She’d been there that first night in the clearing, spitting fire up at him with the same hateful, heated gaze she was wearing right now.

Negan smirked grimly, no mirth reaching his eyes. “Well, well, well. Looks like we got ourselves a fucking prisoner, delivering herself over to me so damn nice.”

Arat and Simon were at Negan’s heels suddenly. “Boss, we have to- what the fuck?” Simon reeled, taking in the woman on the ground. Arat growled.

“Boss, we’ve got a fucking situation.” She pointed out just beyond the gates, and Negan followed her gaze, the fragmented pieces of the attack suddenly fitting together to form an ugly picture. The shattering glass and gunfire, along with the car crash, had drawn in the dead, and not just a couple of roamers- a whole fuckload of them, already beginning to stumble their way through the now- useless front gates.

“Fuck! This day is the gift that just keeps on fucking shitting, isn’t it?” He yelled. He jabbed a finger at Sasha. “You two, fucking take her to the hole. No, actually-” he pointed at Simon. “You take her. Get her locked up nice and cozy, I’m gonna have to have some fucking words with her in a minute. Arat, I’m gonna need you to take my  _ dear husband _ and make sure he stays fucking put while I take care of this shit.”

They obeyed swiftly, Simon taking a wounded Sasha inside while Arat took hold of Rick and led him away. Rick squirmed away, his face drawn and pale with fear. “Negan, Negan, wait, I can help-” He offered, stumbling back toward him, worried eyes locked on the dead beginning to spill through the broken gates. Negan recoiled, disgust crawling over his face in the form of a sneer.

“I don’t fucking think so,  _ baby _ .” The pet name was a mockery of affection, spit out with scorn, and Rick seemed to feel it, reeling back like Negan had slapped him. “I think you’ve fucking done  _ enough _ for today, don’t you? I’ll deal with you later.” He turned to the others on the landing who were waiting for his orders. “As for the rest of you, get the fuck down here and help me start taking out these undead pricks!”

They fell into line, dutiful soldiers in ready formation, weapons held aloft as the dead spilled through the twisted remains of the gate. Negan turned his back on Rick as Arat led him away, fingers clutching tightly to Lucille’s handle as he tried to force away the memory of the hurt in Rick’s eyes when he’d sent him away.

_ Fuck him _ , Negan thought bitterly,  _ He’s the one who betrayed me. I fucking hope he hurts. _


	9. Chapter 9

Rick tried to breathe steadily as Arat led him by the back of the neck up through the Sanctuary and back to his and Negan’s bedroom, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened. The shooting- had anyone been killed? He hadn’t been able to see beyond the gate. He felt panic knot tightly in his chest like tangled yarn when he thought of Michonne, standing out front, putting herself in the line of fire. A soldier- no, a _leader_. The leader and voice of a rebellion. A rebellion that he hadn’t even realized was so close to happening-

He tried not to feel hurt over that, tried not to think about Spencer's words, accusing him of being untrustworthy, of siding with Negan over them, but it stung nonetheless. He had just been in Alexandria earlier that same day, and nobody had said a damn thing to him- clearly they had already been prepared to strike at that point. As much as Michonne had reassured him that nobody other than Spencer truly believed that he would leak information to Negan...he couldn't help but feel all of that had been blown smoke, meant to placate. 

_They didn't trust me enough to tell me. They really think that I would fucking choose Negan over my family._

The thought of it made him sick.

“Stay here until Negan comes to deal with you,” Arat barked, shoving him inside the room once they arrived. “Don’t try to get out. There will be guards at the door.” And then the door was slamming in his face and she was gone, Rick left to stare after her blankly, his breaths coming quick and shallow.

Michonne- she had been out on the front lines, had been the one to speak out…if those snipers had been aiming for anyone, it would have been her. He felt like he was going to heave the remains of his dinner onto the floor. Single-mindedly, he banged on the door with his fists. “Arat! Arat, please, I need you to tell me if you shot anyone, please- the woman who spoke, did you- did you-” He felt his breaths come in hiccupping gulps as a thought occurred to him. “ _Arat!_ Did you see a kid? A boy- one eye, maybe a cowboy hat? Please, my son, I need to know if he-”

Several sharp answering bangs against the other side of the door startled him into silence. “Be quiet! If Negan wants you to know anything, he’ll tell you when he comes up here.”

Rick’s hands shook violently, and he felt tears burn behind his eyes before he blinked them away. Carl, Michonne…God only knew how many others. Everyone they could spare, most likely. He’d spotted Maggie, Daryl, Rosita, Aaron…

Surely Michonne wouldn’t have let Carl come. _Too dangerous_ , he tried to reassure himself. It was far too dangerous. But even as he thought it, he knew she wouldn’t have stopped him- nobody would have been able to. He would have snuck out, followed them. And Michonne, as much as she wouldn’t have wanted him in harm’s way, she would have understood why he wanted to come. She wouldn’t have been so cruel as to keep him from this fight. It was his as much as anyone else’s, after all.

A thought flickered through his mind, brief but cutting deep: _what if he’s not here because he wants me back. What if, after what he found out, he doesn’t want anything to do with me-_

Rick shuddered and felt hot tears leak down his face and stream into his mouth. Angrily, he swiped them away. Fuck, _fuck_ \- this wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. Why didn’t anyone tell him that this was what they were planning while he was in Alexandria earlier that day? Who knows how many of his own died, Sasha was now the Saviors’ prisoner, and the Sanctuary was being swarmed by the dead. Rick buried his hands in his hair, sinking onto the floor beside the bed and shaking with unshed tears. The fear he felt was crippling, blinding, all-consuming. It was there in his thoughts about Carl, in his worry for Michonne’s safety, in the knowledge that somewhere outside the walls he was safely entombed in, Negan was surrounded by walkers, fighting them off to protect his home.

* * *

“Fucking cock-sucking dick-fucking-fuckity _fuck!_ ” Negan roared. His voice carried above the snapping and snarling of the dead surrounding him and his soldiers as they hacked away at them with bats and machetes and pipes. He had to concentrate to see anything but the burning rage of red that threatened to consume his vision. _No_ , He thought, bringing Lucille down on the head of a lunging walker, watching with vile satisfaction as its skull exploded into a gooey, dented mound of gore. No, now is not the fucking time to be hulking the fuck out. Now’s the time you need to keep your fucking head and save your people.

The dead were like a sea, vast and endless as they poured in through the now barely-visible gates. Beside him, in formation, were the people he’d sworn to protect. “Stay close!” he barked, seeing one man stumble a little out of line as a walker fought with him. “Somebody get that thing the fuck off of him! If any of you fucking assholes die, I’ll fucking kill you! I don’t want to see a single one of you go down to these undead fucks!”

The violence was good- it was both a distraction and a focus, something to take his mind off the way it was threatening to lose its shit. As he slammed Lucille into the nonstop stream of rotting bodies, he wasn’t thinking about the fact that war had just been declared on the Sanctuary, that these people were out for fucking blood, that Rick- _his_ Rick- had fucking betrayed him, setting this up behind his back for god only knew how long-

A screeching clang of metal made Negan jerk his head up, just in time to see another section of the gate being ripped down by the sheer volume of the undead pressing against it. “Fuck! Shit fucking _fuck_ ! Everyone get back inside! There are too fucking many of them- _go!_ I’m not fucking dying out here, goddamn it!”

His soldiers fell back, knocking back the dead as they retreated back into the Sanctuary. Negan took out three more as he stepped back, eyes quickly scanning around him to make sure he was the last one in before bolting through the door and slamming it shut behind him. His chest heaved and Lucille dripped discolored undead blood onto the concrete floor. His soldiers stood around him, eyes wide with panic and fear, and he gave himself one last moment to collect his thoughts before addressing them.

“I want a fucking team out there every two hours to thin them out. At least five of you, if not more. You go out there, take out as many as you can, and then get your asses back inside and wait until they calm down. Laura-” he said, pointing to the blonde woman to his left. “You go get some of our smarty-pants fuckers and tell them to figure out a way to thin them out, take a bunch out all at once. We can’t stay trapped in here for too long, that’ll just give those pricks a chance to strike again while we’ve got our dicks in our hands. That happens, and we’re fucking _dead_.” He rubbed a hand over his face, seething. “Fuck. Take fucking care of this. I have shit I have to deal with.”

* * *

He couldn’t face Rick yet. The thought of it, seeing him all self-righteous and pretending like he was somehow the wronged fucking party in all this, made Negan’s blood boil, his fist clenching and unclenching around Lucille. It brought him right back to that frigid night months ago when they’d first met, when Rick was just some new prick who had pissed all over his territory, some cocky fucker who had thought himself _the good guy_.

Negan had seen enough of this new world to know the truth: there were no _good guys_ left. Splitting hairs over who was worse was pointless, a waste of the precious little time they had left to breathe.

He couldn’t look at him like that again, as the man who had tried to kill his people- again. As just another sorry son of a bitch who thought it wise to betray him.

He tried to stomp that thought under the heel of his boot. _Betrayal_ \- who the fuck had he been kidding? He’d been a damned fool, believing a second of Rick’s wide-eyed bullshit about liking him. As soon as Negan had turned around and seen his _husband_ , looking out at his group outside the Sanctuary gates, he’d known. He should have known it all along: it had been a trap. Since the fucking beginning, all of it had been an elaborate scheme to become his undoing. He’d backed Rick into a corner like an animal, and now he was shocked when the damn thing had scratched him back.

He went to visit his new prisoner first- _Sasha_ , Rick had called her.

She was a pretty, fiery thing, all teeth and claws. Completely and utterly unafraid, even now while she was injured and locked away in a holding cell. When he stepped inside, she just glared up at him, eyes alight with flame.

“Sasha, right?” He asked.

“Yeah.” He liked that- no hesitation, no holding out. Just simple, civil conversation.

“Well, Sasha. I’ve gotta say, you make one _hell_ of an impression. Not a first impression, of course- since we’ve already met.” He got an absolutely blazing glare at that. “I gotta hand it to you. You’ve got some beachball sized lady-nuts coming in all kamikaze like that. That shit is fucking impressive.” He gritted his teeth. “But also- not so fucking great for me, but I know that was your fucking plan. Come in like a bat straight outta hell and take out our gate, lead the dead right in. It’s smart, I’ll give you that. But we’re not going down that fucking easily. _I’m_ not going down that easily.”

Sasha didn’t respond to that- just kept up the even glare.

“Now I’ve got a fucking question here Sasha, and I need the _truth_ here- did Rick put you up to this?”

He didn’t know why he was asking. He already knew the answer.

“Rick,” she said, holding his gaze. “Your bitch?” Oh, he liked that. He couldn’t help the pleased smirk that slid over his face at the possessive thrill the words gave him. He wondered exactly how much she knew- if she and the rest had worked out just how much of Rick Negan had claimed for himself. “No, he didn’t. This was on me.”

“You just _volunteered_ to go all Rambo through my gates like that, Sasha? Goddamn.”

“Yeah. I wanted to be the one to take the gates down, to trap you in here and watch as all of you die fighting your way out. I want to _see_ it.”

“Sounds like you got some personal fucking beef with me, Sash. Tell me, what did I do to you to get such a personal fucking _fuck you_?”

“The first man you killed that night,” She growled, and Negan remembered: the redhead. He’d taunted the tiny Latina girl who had been so broken over seeing his skull split open, hadn’t even noticed Sasha- “His name was Abraham.”

“You and him? Fuck, Sasha, sounds like I was tauntin’ the wrong woman that night. That’s my fucking bad.”

Sasha just glared. “You can kill me if you want. That’s what I expected coming in. It’d be good to see Abraham again- I really miss him. I did what I came here to do.”

Negan stared down at her- at this woman who was so unafraid of death, so willing to die for a cause, for revenge.

“I don’t want to fucking kill you, Sasha,” he said, meaning it. “But I will if I have to.”

* * *

He was avoiding Rick- he knew he was. There was shit he needed to do, sure- but in the back of his mind throughout the rest of the hectic evening, a voice tugged at him saying _you need to talk to Rick_.

Fuck that. He’d talk to Rick when he was good and ready. When the thought of him didn’t make him want to put his fist through a wall or start shouting profanity-laced curses. In the meantime, he could sweat it out and suffer locked up in that room. No doubt he was climbing the walls right now- the leader of men whose men no longer required his guidance. 

So Negan worked- he joined his soldiers out front, fighting to clear out the dead that had overtaken the front of the Sanctuary. They’d lost two men in the crossfire with the rebels, but none so far to the dead, and he wanted to keep it that way. Slowly but surely throughout the night, the dead thinned out. It had been a risk, but after a squad of soldiers had donned protective armor and created a temporary patch for the hole in the gate with a couple of strategically placed trucks, things started looking up. With no more of the dead streaming in through the break, they’d drenched the remaining walkers out front in alcohol and anything else flammable they could find, and lit them up like a bonfire as dawn broke.

Just mark that down as more more thing that Rick and his merry band of rebelling fuckwits owed him- a couple new bottles of bourbon.

While they waited out the hoard, Negan called a meeting- the plan was set in place. This was the only way, and as much as he would lot to avoid it, he couldn't let something like this get swept under the damn rug. They would move out as soon as the scorched remains of the dead were cleared away. As Negan walked away from the meeting room, he knew there was only one thing left for him to do in his spare time.

_You have to fucking do it now. God fucking knows that this is the last time you’re going to see him before-_

No. No sentiment, no last goodbyes, no sweet parting words. Rick hadn’t earned that.

As he walked to their- _his_ , he corrected himself- bedroom, he wondered if he would be able to follow through with what he would inevitably be expected to do after it was all over. If he would be able to take one final look at the man he’d begun to fall for, and then kill him.

He hated that, even now, in the wake of an attack on his home and a betrayal of his trust, he didn’t know if he could. Equally nauseating was the notion of keeping Rick alive, locked away somewhere in the Sanctuary, knowing that with every passing day he would only grow to hate Negan more.

 _No_ , he thought. He would have to kill him. Set an example: you do not fucking fuck with me. Nobody is safe.

And another reminder to himself: don't be a fucking dipshit and let yourself fall in love with some fucking guy that's just going to make you regret it. 

He wondered if he would be able to live with himself afterwords.

* * *

Rick wasn’t asleep when he walked in- it didn’t surprise him. Who the hell could sleep after something like that?

“Negan,” he rasped, lurching toward him as soon as he stepped in the door. Instinctively, Negan felt himself moving to take the man into his arms- only to jerk away a moment later, horrified at his body’s own reaction. _What the fuck did I just say?_ “Negan, please, Carl- did you see-”

“I don’t fucking know if he’s dead, if that’s what you’re asking.” Something in him, something deeply wounded and hurt, lashed out. “I don’t fucking know who we killed. Couldn’t fucking tell for all the undead fucks storming my goddamn doorway. Casualties on _your_ end aren’t really my top fucking concern. I do know who your fucking pricks killed, though- a woman named Molly, a man named Robert. Not that you fucking care about that, right, Grimes? Just two more notches on your belt. What’s two more compared to ten, to twenty?”

“Negan-” Rick looked positively ill, and he wished that he felt some satisfaction in it.

“No, you’re gonna fucking _listen_ to me, Rick!” Negan shouted, taking a long stride forward to get up into the smaller man’s face. “You think you’re the greater good? You think you’re so fucking righteous? You wanna fucking pretend that you just want people to live? There are people here, living!” He took a deep, shuddering breath, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re not the fucking good guys.”

Rick glared up at him, that familiar fire back in his eyes. That same flame from months ago, when Rick, on his knees at his feet, had promised to kill him. _Not today, not tomorrow._ “Neither are you.”

Negan smirked cruelly. “That’s the difference between you and me, Rick,” he growled, “I never fucking claimed to be.”

Rick’s face softened at that. “I never wanted people to die, Negan.”

Rick’s naivety choked him. Who the hell did he think he was, starting wars and then saying he _never wanted people to die?_ “Well, they fucking _did_ , Grimes. People are fucking dead because you decided that starting a goddamned _war_ was a good idea. Tell me, Rick. Tell me how fucking long you’ve been going behind my back like this. Was it since the beginning?”

Looking at Rick now, he couldn’t see the man who had carried him to safety when he’d been alone and drunk in the woods. He couldn’t see the Rick Grimes who had opened up to him about his wife, or laughed at his corny come-ons, or laid naked and undone underneath him in their shared bed.

“Negan, I- It’s not like that, Negan-”

“I see how it is now. How it always fucking was. _Fuck_ , Grimes, you played me for a damn fool, didn’t you? And I just fuckin’ ate it up. _Sweet Rick Grimes_ , fallin’ for big bad Negan.” He snorted, Rick’s name ash in his mouth. “God, I was an idiot. I’m a big enough man to admit that- I was a fucking idiot to let myself get close to you. Should’ve seen you for what you were right away- I let a pair or pretty blues and a nice ass cloud my damn judgment. I knew you were a snake, a killer, a man willing to do anything. I knew that before I even met you. You killed twenty men in their sleep like it was nothin’, strode away light as a feather because you really are so fucking self-righteous that you thought it was justified. Killing is nothing to you. Why would trading your own body to take me down be any different?”

Rick cringed away. “Negan, that’s not what-”

“What, Grimes?” Negan sneered. “That’s not what you did? You didn’t strip for me, spread your legs for me so that I’d start to trust you? So that I’d let my guard down? Fuck- I really thought I’d broken you, and that was my mistake. I thought, really thought, after the way you lost it that night that you wouldn’t dare fucking try this shit again. But shit, I offered you a deal and you took it like the keys to the damn kingdom. A way into my bed and into my head. Take them down from the inside. Well, I won’t be making that fucking mistake again.”

“I…I didn’t know that-”

Negan cut him off. “What? You didn’t know they were planning this? You didn’t know that they were trying to start a goddamned war right in my front yard?” Rick was silent, eyes stormy. “Yeah, I fucking thought so.”

“I knew,” Rick whispered, sounding lost. “I knew that they- that they wanted to- but I didn’t know about today. I thought that- that it was a long way off, that I had more time to-”

“To what, Rick?” Negan barked. “You gonna try to tell me that if you’d known about the attack today that you would’ve warned me? That you would’ve picked me over them?”

“No,” Rick said, voice steely with resolve. “I would never do that.”

Negan’s life was one long string of things that he saw coming- and had coming to him- but still fucking stung like a bitch. “That’s what I fucking thought. Glad we’re finally being honest with each other here, Rick. It’s about fucking time.”

“I didn’t want this,” Rick said quietly.

“Yeah, well, neither did I, Rick. But this is what we get.” In a moment of utter weakness, his hand found its way to the back of Rick’s neck, fingers tangling in the thick curls, tugging at the roots. It must have hurt, he knew that- he’d spent enough nights pulling Rick’s hair to know how hard he had to pull to make it hurt- but Rick didn’t make a sound. He just let himself be pulled forward, one hand coming up to cup the side of Negan’s face in a mockery of tenderness.

It made him angry, made him _sick_ , knowing that Rick was still trying to use this against him, even now.

“I don’t know if your fucking kid is laying out there with the rest of the dead, Rick,” he hissed, twisting the knife, “but you had better fucking believe that after today, it won’t be long until he is.”

Pain twisted Rick’s pretty features, and the hand on the side of his face withdrew, disgusted. “We can fix this, there doesn’t need to be-”

“We can’t, baby,” Negan murmured, hoping he didn’t sound as desolate as he felt. “We can’t fucking fix this. Your people made that very clear. I’m not about to give myself and my men over for execution, sorry to burst your fucking bubble. I’m sure you’d love to see my head on a stake, but that’s not gonna happen. We’re fighting. We’re going to war, Rick.”

"Negan, _please_ ," Rick wound a hand into the front of his jacket as if he was trying to hold him here. "We can talk about this. We can. I-"

"There's nothing to fucking talk about, Rick!" Negan shouted, and he hated himself even as he watched the man shake. He thought back to his promise to Rick months ago, his reassurance that _I'll never hurt you like that again, you're my husband now, I don't want to hurt you._

He had absolutely meant it then. He had fooled himself into believing that he and Rick were something that could be sustained. Now, it was all he could do to not put him right back on his knees again, to slap him around and ground him into the dirt, to scream at him and degrade him and humiliate him all over again. He hated Rick for bringing him back to that place, for making him into that man again. 

"I wanted to fucking be _better_ for you, Rick," he whispered. The confession felt like as good a parting kiss as he would get.

Rick’s grip on the front of his jacket tightened, and Negan wrenched away, letting Rick stumble back. He grabbed for his radio, calling down to Arat again.

“Arat. Get your best men up here. I need someone to keep my _husband_ in line while I’m gone.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

Rick’s eyes were wide with panic, and he reached for Negan again only to be shoved roughly away. “Where are you going? What are you-”

Negan grabbed Lucille, turning her over in his hands. For once, picking her up didn’t give him any comfort. “I just told you, Rick. We’re going to war.” A knock at the door told him that Arat and the others were here. He took a breath, took one last look at Rick. Wanted to take one last kiss, while the man would still let him, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. “I’m gonna go take care of Alexandria. And then I’ll be back to take care of you.”


	10. Chapter 10

Negan almost expected to hear Rick banging on the door and shouting at him, demanding he come back, that they talk this out.

He almost wanted him to. The utter silence that followed the slam of the door behind him felt so grimly final that it unnerved him.  _ That’s because it is final, dumbass _ , Negan berated himself as he walked away.  _ The next time you see him, it’ll be after attacking his home. His fucking family. There’s no coming back from this. No way out, no happy fucking ending where he forgives you for slaughtering his people. His son. _

That last bit made him particularly queasy, because he knew exactly what it would do to Rick. It would break him completely, crack him open and leave him utterly ruined. It wasn’t something he was looking forward to- he didn’t want to be a fucking  _ child _ killer. But Carl was hardly a normal child, not growing up like this, walking among the dead. “Little future serial killer”, Negan had called him.  _ An apt description _ , he thought. Any kid that had the cojones to stop his own mother from turning- he was likely to be fighting right alongside the others. And leaving him alive? That kid wouldn't integrate into the Savior's ranks, no fucking way. 

He thought of the little one- Judith. He wouldn’t kill her, no. She was innocent, too young to coo out a  _ dada,  _ much less take sides in a war.

_ You’re going to kidnap his fucking child and raise her as your own? You really think you’d be able to do that, knowing you killed her father? Even though you loved her father? _

Fuck. He couldn’t think about this. Not right now, when he needed a clear head to get this shit over and done. Rick  _ fucking _ Grimes, clouding his judgment even now.

_ And stop fucking saying that you love him. _

There was a fleet of trucks parked out front, still-smoldering piles of the dead scattered within the fence. Childishly, Negan brought the heel of his boot down on a charred head, the crack-squish of fire-weakened bone and brain under his foot acting as a stress ball.

“Sir!” Simon called, charging up to him, “I’ve got something you may wanna hear.” His right hand man looked on edge- understandably so, but the way he spoke sounded like more bad news.

Negan’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like the fucking sound of that, Simon. Are you comin’ over here to tell me we’ve got a problem already?” His eyes scanned the area warily. “Where the fuck is my prisoner?”

Simon waved him down. “Laura and Mike are bringing her down now. It’s not about that. It’s, ah. It’s about Dwight, sir.”

Negan’s finger tightened around Lucille. “What the fuck about  _ Dwight _ ?”

Simon subtly edged away, as if anticipating that Negan was in a shoot-the-messenger sort of mood. “He’s missing again, boss. None of the teams that were out fighting the dead reported him joining them, and he wasn’t at the meeting-”  _ Shit, fuck, shit _ , how had he missed that? Too fucking shaken up, he hadn’t even realized Dwight had been absent. “I asked around, and a couple people said they saw him leaving out the back during the attack. Guess they assumed he was going to help fight them off, but he wasn’t out there.”

“So he’s just fucking gone?  _ Again?”  _ Negan seethed. Of all the fucking times- this wasn’t a coincidence, him deciding to take another road trip right as their front gates were getting knocked down.

“It, uh. It seems that way, boss…”

“Shit!” Negan barked out. “Shit, shit, Dwighty boy you fucking useless phantom of the goddamned opera looking  _ motherfucker _ _!”_ Negan pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply. “Fuck him. We don’t fucking need him. Radio up to Arat and the people staying behind that if that little shit shows his face around here while I’m gone to cart his ass straight to the hole, full fucking stop. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Yes, sir.” Simon wheeled away, looking relieved that he escaped unscathed. Negan turned to see Sasha being led up to the flatbed of one of the trucks, and decided it was time to deal with her as well. He boosted himself up to join her and gestured to her seat of sorts for the ride.

“You like the accommodations? It’s not exactly a fucking limo, I know, but it’s pretty damn comfortable. Surprisingly so, come to fucking think of it. Not sure why they bother with all that shit, since usually the only people hitching a ride in one are-”

“Dead,” Sasha deadpanned. “I’m riding home in a coffin.”

“You are,” Negan confirmed. She glared up at him fiercely- did the whole fucking town practice their stink eye? Did they have classes?- and he glared right back. “Just be thankful that you don’t actually need it. Yet.”

* * *

Rick gave himself three minutes. After Negan closed the door behind him and he was locked inside, he took a deep, shaky breath, pinched the bridge of his nose, and glanced at his watch.

_ Three minutes _ , he told himself.  _ You have three minutes to panic, and then you figure out how to get out of here. _

He spent three minutes pacing the length of Negan’s bedroom, running his hands through his hair and trying to get himself to breathe normally despite the fact that  _ Negan is on his way to Alexandria to kill everyone I love, and everyone I love is prepared to kill him. _

When his allotted time was up, he had a plan. A half-cocked and flawed plan that would likely result in him just having to  _ watch _ everyone he loved die, but it was worth the risk. It was something.

Rick tore the room apart looking for a gun- he wasn’t overly surprised when he turned up nothing beneath the mattress or tucked away with Negan’s clothes, but it had been worth a shot at least. It wasn’t like Negan didn’t have guards on his door constantly, and Lucille packed a big enough punch to take care of any intruders anyway.

_ Weapon, something to use as a weapon… _

He stepped into the bathroom, glancing around and-  _ perfect! _ \- a metal towel rod attached to the wall. He hoped that getting it out of the wall wouldn’t be too loud, or at least that the guards wouldn’t be too bothered by it.

Then again, if they  _ were _ , that really just expedited his plan, anyway.

The rod was firmly stuck between the two pieces that attached to the wall- it was loose enough to shift maybe half an inch, but no more, and definitely not enough to get it out.

_ Alright, this is fine. Just gotta break one of those things off the wall. _

He grabbed a metal vase off of the coffee table, said a quick prayer that the guards wouldn’t  come charging in guns blazing, and slammed it into the wall where the piece was attached. When it rattled, but didn’t budge, he tried again, and then again, and again-

“Hey!” Arat’s muffled shout through the door made him jolt.  _ Fuck. Fuck fuck, hurry the fuck up.  _ “What the fuck are you doing in there?”

The metallic  _ clang! _ of the vase against the rod was deafening-  _ fuck _ , of course they would have heard it.

_ Clang! _

“Rick! What the fuck are you doing?”

_ Clang! _

“Stop, or we’ll have to come in there!”

_ Clang! _

Almost there- _almost_ -

The rod clattered to the tile floor just as the door to Negan’s room swung open with such force that it cracked against the wall.

_ Shit. Alright. I can work with this. _

“Rick!”

Rick snatched the rod off the floor and crowded himself into the corner of the bathroom, waiting.  _ Please don’t let them have guns _ , he thought.  _ Or at least, let them be too scared of what Negan will say to use them on me. _

In the back of his mind as he gripped the rod and heard footsteps making their way toward him, he couldn’t help but fear that any protection he’d been afforded as Negan’s husband had been stripped away in the wake of the rebellion.

“Rick, don’t do anything stupid. Your people have done enough to piss us off today, do you  _ really _ want to add anything else on top of that? Don't make this any worse that it needs to be.”

There were three of them reflected in the bathroom mirror- Arat and two men.

_ I’ve taken on worse. _

No guns raised, but-

One of the men rounded the corner he was hiding behind, and he acted on instinct, swinging the rod like a bat to collide with the man’s temple and watching as he crumpled. He struck again, just to be sure the man was truly unconscious, and looked up to see Arat and the second man in front of him, cornering him.

Arat lunged first, shoving him against the wall with a dull  _ thud _ . They slid to the floor, and Rick swung again, knocking her off of him and to the side. He threw a kick in her direction and then felt himself being hauled up by the collar of his shirt and slammed against the wall again, this time by the man.

“Fuck! You little fucking bitch-!” He grabbed the bar and tried to yank it from Rick’s grasp, and for a moment they were locked in a struggle of power before the man managed to shove the rod up against Rick’s throat, pinning him to the wall.

Rick bared his teeth, seething and gripping at the bar in a vain attempt at shoving it away. The man grinned, and Rick used his moment of cockiness to his gain. He let go of one end of the rod and jammed his fingers roughly into the man’s eye sockets, gouging.

“ _Fuck!_ Shit!” The man howled, his grip loosening, and Rick wrenched the weapon back into his hands, sending the man sprawling with an added knee to the groin. He lunged, going in for the final blow, only to be yanked to the floor by Arat. The pipe went clattering away and rolled beneath the counter, and Arat was on top of him, throwing sharp-knuckled punches to his face.

“Stay the fuck down, Rick!  _ Jesus _ , you’re fucking outnumbered-”

Rick rolled his hips, trying to buck her off, and threw his knees up into her back. A punch to his jaw saw him spitting blood across the tile, and his fingers groped blindly for the rod.

Arat caught him, pinning his wrist and snatching the rod from the ground, only to be thrown to the floor while she was distracted. Rick lurched toward the door but then there was metal beneath his chin once again, choking him as he was dragged back, the pipe across his throat.

“Stop fucking fighting, Rick, you’re just making it worse for yourself-” Arat’s warning was choked off by Rick’s elbows slamming into her ribs. Rick reached back, hands cradling the back of her neck and then dropped to his knees, bringing Arat clear over his shoulder and sprawling onto the floor. In her breathless shock, he wrestled the rod from her grip and skittered toward the man still groaning and clutching at his face on the floor, bringing the bar down on his head and knocking him out.

Arat had nearly managed to get to her feet before Rick took her out in a similar fashion, crumpling to the bathroom floor alongside her comrades. Rick’s chest heaved, and he could feel himself sweating and dripping blood onto the tile.

He dropped down beside the man he’d gouged the eyes of and checked his belt-

_ Yes. Fuck, yes. A knife.  _ No gun, but it would have to do. The goal wasn’t to kill people- god knows that would only escalate the situation- but he felt safer knowing that if his plan didn’t work, he had something more deadly than a towel rod to protect himself with.

Rick was both fearful and thankful that the Sanctuary corridors were all but abandoned. He moved quickly, ducking down corridors to dodge any Saviors left behind.

_ Either everyone’s taking shelter in their rooms, or- _

_ Or they’re all on their way to Alexandria. _

He shuddered at the thought and kept moving, slipping out the back entrance and creeping around the side of the factory to scope out the situation up front.

There were trucks rolling out, most of them already rumbling down the road. There was one left, the engine just rumbling to life, and he bolted toward it like the lifeline that it was.

_ Hope they don’t fucking see me- _

In a stroke of luck, the Saviors driving the truck didn’t catch sight of him in the mirrors, and he managed to hop into the back of the box truck just as it began to pull away. He flattened himself to the floor of it, breathing hard, feeling the rough bump of the road beneath the tires.

_ Please _ , he thought.  _ Please, please let this work. _

* * *

When Negan’s truck rumbled up the road leading to Alexandria’s front gate, the place looked as quiet and removed as always, and it  _ pissed him the fuck off _ .

_ These smarmy fucking pricks, _ Negan raged to himself as he swung out of his truck.  _ Could’ve killed us all and they’re still behind their walls, not a care in the world. _

He saw the person manning the guard tower duck down- probably to alert the rest of the town that they were here. The truck with Sasha’s coffin loaded on the back pulled up to the front, and he climbed atop it again. The rest of the Saviors began filing out of the trucks, guns at the ready.

“Anybody fucking home?” He shouted over the wall. “I’ve got something that may interest you! The name Sasha ring any goddamn bells with you people?”

No immediate response, and he swore under his breath. “C’mon, now! After the shitfit you people threw over Red and the Asian kid, I’d think you’d be falling over yourselves to get her back! Or is that not how it works with you anymore? You finally fucking realize that sometimes you gotta sacrifice the one for the many?”

He wasn’t sure if it was his taunting that did it, but figures appeared at the top of the walls, glaring down at him: Michonne, Ezekiel, the widow. Michonne was again the one that spoke. “Are you here to surrender?”

_ The fucking balls on these people-  _ “You’re fucking joking right? Is that why Rick liked you so goddamn much? Because you’re so damn _funny?_ I’m here to fucking offer you ungrateful fucks an out. I’ve got your little kamikaze buddy, safe and sound right here!” He patted the lid of the coffin. “You pricks can surrender quietly and I’ll send her right over like red goddamned Rover, and we can put all this nasty shit behind us. You can go back to providing for us, and I’ll fucking forgive you for comin’ in and trashing the Sanctuary like it was a cheap motel room.”

Michonne glared down at him from the wall. “I don’t think you quite got the point of our attack if that’s what you’re offering us.”

“And I don’t think  _ you _ quite got that I’ve got your fucking friend and a fleet of trucks ready to take down this fucking wall like you took down mine!” Negan shouted back. “You really want to go to war? Is that really what you want to do? Honestly, you seem like a smart fucking woman, great taste in men-”  _ do not start thinking about Rick- _ “It’d be a goddamn shame to tear this place a new one, but hear me loud and fucking clear, Michonne _ : I will come the fuck in there and tear this place a brand new asshole if you force my fucking hand.” _

Michonne’s steely expression didn’t waver, but she looked over at the coffin. “Is Sasha even still alive?”

“Hell yeah she is!” Negan replied. “Brought her in this thing for comfort. And as a fucking warning- you turn down my offer, and I’ll make sure that she needs it.”

“Show me.”

Negan suppressed an eye roll, dramatically undid the latch, and wrenched the lid of the coffin open _. Fucking people can’t trust me as far as they could throw me- _

Sasha sat bolt upright, hate-filled eyes locked on his. “You’re not using me as a fucking pawn to hurt them, you son of a bitch-”

“See?” Negan called up to Michonne, lowering the lid again. “Safe and fucking sound!”

“Sounds like she’s not interested in being a part of your plan.”

“Good thing she doesn’t get a say in this shit then, isn’t it?” Negan sneered. “Now I want a goddamn answer. What’s it gonna be?”

“Negan!”

Negan froze, eyes going wide as a new voice- an all-too-familiar one rang out behind him. Michonne and the others looked equally shocked, and for the first time Michonne’s resolute mask wavered, worry cracking her features.

“Negan!” Rick shouted again, and this time Negan turned on his heel to face him. He was looking a bit worse for wear- sweaty, sporting a split lip and a black eye, curling hair clinging to his temples. “I think you and I need to talk.”

_ This guy. This fucking guy _ , Negan thought, mind racing.  _ How the hell did he get out? _

“Rick!” Negan barked, voice hoarse. “You decided to fucking join the party this time around, I see! Now tell me, before we get to the part where I tell you to go fucking fuck yourself- did you kill my men? Did you kill Arat?” The thought of it made him grit his teeth- he was rather fond of Arat.

“No. I didn’t kill anyone to get here. They’re fine. Nobody has to die today, Negan.” Rick said with a surprising amount of calm, and Negan rocked back on his heels, laughing as he dismounted the truck so he could get up in Rick’s face one last time.

“Good to fucking hear that you aren’t enough of a goddamn hypocrite to come here and beg me not to kill your people after killing more of my people, Rick. That’s a good start.”

“I’m not begging you for anything,” Rick growled. “I said I’m here to talk. I’m gonna talk, and you’re gonna listen to me.”

“The time for this shit is long over, Rick!” Negan snapped. “I want to let you in on a little secret- I don’t  _ really _ enjoy killing. You see Lucille crack some guy’s skull once, you’ve seen it a dozen times. Sure, it’s fucking neat the first time, but I don’t  _ want _ to keep doing that shit. You people forced my hand. Do  _ not _ make me do it again.”

“I want to let  _ you _ in on a little secret,” Rick replied. “You must be the absolute  _ stupidest _ fucking person still alive.”

Negan reeled back, staring at him blankly. “What?”

“You want to end this? Fine, let’s end it. Let’s do this right. Let’s work together.”

Negan smirked down at him. “What- you wanna sing songs and hold hands, Rick? You really think that’s gonna work?”

“I think,” Rick said slowly, “that you’re up against a lot of people- more people than you can easily deal with. I think that the people here- they know what they’re fighting for. We’re all survivors, people who have come together to live in this new world, to take it back from the dead and make it  _ ours _ again. And we did that, all of us. Together. We’ve come to a place where the dead aren’t the biggest threat anymore. Now all we have to deal with is people like you. That’s what they’re fighting for, Negan. A world without  _ you _ . What are you fighting for here?”

“Fine,” Negan sneered, “I’ll bite. I’ll play your fucking game, Rick, if it’ll make you  _ feel _ better. You know what I’m fighting for, Rick? I’m fighting for  _ order _ . For the new world order that  _ I _ fucking established with the Saviors. You don’t like how I run shit- and you know what? I don’t give a flying  _ fuck _ . I know what it takes to survive. There are so many fucking people that don’t.  _ Weak _ people. And I’m protecting them. The Saviors have protected them. You may not like how I do it, but my way keeps people in line. It keeps them  _ alive _ . I’m saving lives.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?” Rick asked, tilting his head up at him. “Men like you- you always forget that we’re outnumbered these days. That we all have a common enemy. One that kills us in between us killing each other, and every time we do that we’re just  _ letting them win _ .”

“What’s your fucking point, Rick?”

“My point,” Rick replied, “is that we have the whole goddamn world to share. So here’s my idea. You want half our shit? Fine. Bring us some pickles, siphon some gas for us, make us some blankets- do something  _ productive _ . You have so much at the Sanctuary at your disposal- more than enough. Pretty soon, thanks to my idea, you’ll have gardens full of food.”

Negan blinked- Rick, the sneaky little fuck, had gotten this started at the Sanctuary without him even realizing it. He’d batted those pretty blue eyes and gotten Negan to start a garden without thinking twice.

And…and he wasn’t wrong. They hadn’t exactly been hurting for much at the Sanctuary.

“So you’re proposing we establish some kind of trade system, then?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s exactly it,” Rick said, looking relieved. Negan noticed the way his hand was poised on his belt- fingers barely brushing the top of a knife strapped to his hip. “But that’s only the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?” Negan challenged.

“The beginning of everything, Negan. Don’t you see what we’ve already built? Alexandria, the Sanctuary, the Kingdom, the Hilltop…the potential we have if we work together instead of going to war over stolen supplies is practically limitless. We have a lot of people between us, Negan. We could establish a trade system between the communities. Set up more farms, start clearing out the roads and building more safe places to live. We may not ever get things back to the way before, but we can try. We can get to the point where people aren’t wondering where their next meal is coming from, or sleepin’ with a knife under their pillow. We could rebuild civilization. All of us. And maybe do a better job of it this time.” Rick looked up at him, fierce and determined. "And this...this war? I know you're smart enough to see that you don't have the advantage anymore, Negan. If you fight us, you might win. Might. But there's a good chance you won't. And even if you do, there will be a price. How many of your people do you think will die if you follow through here? I know you. You may not want to admit it, but I know you, Negan, and I know that's not what you want. I know what kind of man you are. You said you don't like killing, don't want to see anyone die. Prove it."

Rick’s blue eyes shone up at him, full of hope. He really believed what he was saying, Negan thought. And-  _ shit _ \- the way he said it…it made Negan want to believe him, too.

“Fuck,” He shook his head, and Rick’s expression flickered to worry. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He could already see it- safe zones established between their communities, labor divided between people so that everyone had something different to contribute, a way to earn their keep. “Fuck, Rick. I’ve had it all wrong. I’ve been acting like a hungry dog, hoarding supplies, pushing people away in the name of safety…” Looking at Rick’s face stung- it still did, and admitting that the man was right after his betrayal was a blow to his pride, but the idea of it, of a future where he wasn’t looking over his shoulder waiting for an attack, where people were united against the dead instead of each other… “Goddamn it, Rick. I think you’re right.”

Rick leaned in close, his face intense. “We can do so much more if we’re united, Negan. I-” he faltered, eyes dodging Negan’s and then skipping back up to his. “Do you remember what I said…about wishing things were different? How I wished I could have met you before all of this, how strong we could be if we were on the same side?”

It felt like a slap in the face, Rick reminding him of a night spent in his arms. “Don’t,” he snapped, gritting his teeth. “Don’t say that shit to me right now, Rick. I’m seeing things your way. I'm starting to, anyway. I want to try to make this work. Don’t fuck it up by throwing that in my face. You’re getting what you want.”

Rick frowned up at him. “Negan, I- you don’t still think that I was lying to you all these months, do you?”

At that, Negan snapped, grabbing Rick roughly by the collar of his shirt and jerking him in close. “I fucking  _ know _ that’s what you did, Rick.” Behind him, he heard the sound of guns being cocked- and most likely pointed at him from the wall. “Fuck, you said it yourself, you got me to start putting this plan in place already with the garden.”

Rick shook his head, looking exasperated. “You’re a fucking idiot, Negan. This was never the plan, don’t you get that? This is me tryin’ to keep the people I care about alive. This is me tryin’ to stop you from charging in there and doing something that will get you killed, get my family killed. I don’t want that. I don’t want a war. I never did. I’m not gonna lie to you and say I didn’t know that it was being planned, because I did. I was a part of it. I helped, and I don’t regret it, especially if it led us here. But that’s the only lie between us, Negan. Do you really think I’d be out here trying to save your life if it wasn’t?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m  _ saying _ that you’re an idiot. That I didn’t agree to marry you because it was part of a bigger plan I did it because it was the best choice on the table. I didn’t sleep with you because I was tryin’ to get in your head. The plans for the war have only been goin’ on for a few weeks now.”

Negan looked down at Rick, at the face of the man he’d come to love, and wanted to believe him so badly that it ached.

“Negan, please.” Rick’s fingers found their way to the side of his face and, despite everything that had transpired between them the last two days, he caught himself leaning his cheek into the smaller man’s palm. In that moment, he felt more undone than he had since the world had ended.  _ Rick fucking Grimes _ , he thought wryly. How many times had he feared that his affection for this man would prove to be the downfall of everything he’d built?

_ And here he is. Proving me right. And fuck, this fucking guy's got me so good that he has me wanting it. He has me wanting to try. _

“Okay,” Negan breathed out. He wasn’t sure if it was a surrender or a victory. “Okay, Rick. You’ve got me. Let’s rebuild this fucking world together.”

Rick’s face was the sun, radiant and blinding. “Good.” He pulled away and turned toward the wall. “Michonne! Ezekiel! Maggie! Open up the gates. The five of us have somethin’ to discuss!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of the dialogue here is from the comics- I did mix a lot of it up, but there are definitely a handful of lines from them in here.


	11. Chapter 11

When the heavy front gate leading into Alexandria slowly opened for them, the first thing Rick did was scan the interior to see if Carl was there. He couldn’t see him, but there wasn’t exactly a gathering in the streets- from what he could tell, most everyone was up on the platforms against the wall.  _ He could be fine. He could be here. _

He craned his neck to look up to the people crouched on the closest watchtowers and felt himself nearly go weak at the knees with relief. There, right beside Rosita, was Carl, alive and well. Rick took a staggering step forward, the boy’s name ripping out of him like it was his very heart.

“Carl!”

His son’s eye flicked down at him only long enough to register his presence before he looked away again, but it was something. He was _alive_. At the moment, that was all that mattered. Ever since Negan had stepped out the door back at the Sanctuary, he felt like he’d been charging uphill, everything in him tense and exhausted and single-mindedly focused on getting to the top. Now that he was there, he felt almost drained with the relief of it.

Michonne was the one who met him at the gate, a rifle in her hands and her katana slung over her back. She took one look at the way Rick had placed himself between her and Negan and Rick saw the hurt and confusion flicker across her face.

_ She’ll understand. When I explain- she’ll know I’m not taking his side. She can’t think that. _

“What are you doing, Rick?” Her voice was flat, but Rick knew her well enough to know when she was forcing the emotionless façade.

“He’s standing down, Michonne-”

“That’s not what’s happening here,” Negan interjected, stepping up closer to Rick’s back, and Rick shot him a warning glare over his shoulder.  _ Do not fuck this up. _

“You sure about that, Rick?” Michonne asked, fingers tapping nervously on the barrel of her rifle.

“Yes. It’s not on the terms that you offered, but yes.”

Michonne’s intense gaze hardened. “Those are the only terms we’re willing to accept, Rick. They’re the ones that we talked out.”

“No,” Rick snapped suddenly, the hurt from earlier welling up in him, fresh blood in the wound. “No,  _ we _ didn’t discuss them. I’m guessin’ you and Maggie and Ezekiel did. But we’re at an impasse here. Nobody wants to see anyone else die today, and it doesn’t have to be like that. It _doesn’t_. You want terms of surrender, they’re gonna have to be negotiated.”

He saw her jaw clench and unclench- processing his offer, working through the pros and cons.  _ Please _ , he wanted to beg her.  _ Please just hear me out. _

“Fine,” she said finally. “We can talk this out. All of us. Maggie and Ezekiel will come, too. And we do it here. On _our_ turf, surrounded by _our_ people.” She glanced over Rick’s shoulder at Negan. “Tell your soldiers to stand down and lower their weapons. I’m not leaving my people out here if they’re still trigger-happy.”

Rick held his breath, waiting for Negan to fight her on this, too. Instead, he was surprised to hear Negan turn to his soldiers and call out. “Stand down! All of you, stand the fuck down! If any of you take a shot at these people and start a goddamn war, you’ll be meeting the fun end of Lucille!”

Rick felt his palms sweating and wiped them on his jeans. This was working. It was. The Saviors were standing down and Michonne was calling up to Maggie and Ezekiel, and Negan was lingering tersely by his side. Everything was going to be alright. He would make sure of it.

* * *

“No. Absolutely not, Rick. You’re insane if you think I’ll agree to this. What the hell are you thinkin’?” Maggie’s face was red and contorted with rage as she leaned over the table and into his face, green eyes alight with flame. “You want me to let the fucking monster that murdered my husband walk around free? Have you lost your mind?”

Rick was thankful when Michonne cut her off, because he could see where that train of thought was going-  _ of course you’ve lost your mind. You’re sleeping with him. How the hell can we trust anything you say to be in our favor? _ He could only assume she knew. She’d had this look on her face when they’d all gathered together in one of the empty houses in Alexandria- disgust and horror and all the righteous judgment of an avenging angel. It was the same look her father, Hershel, had given Rick on occasion back when he’d been alive.

The look was usually well-earned.

"Maggie-"

"No, Michonne. We can't be talking about this, like we're just gonna let him go. Rick, you can't really be askin' us to do this. If we can't kill him, we at least need to lock him up. Morgan built that cell all those months ago, it's just sitting there waiting for him. He can fucking rot there, and if you wanna- wanna keep him around, fine, but at least that way none of the rest of us have to deal with him."

"Hell fucking no! That's now that I signed up for!" Negan shouted, and Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"Look, just consider what I said about-"

“You want us to _pardon_ him?” Michonne gritted out, looking like every muscle in her body was fighting to remain calm. “Just let him walk free after all he’s done? After stealing from us for months and killing Glenn and Abraham?”

“No,” Rick said. “Not pardon him. Allow him to repay us. The Sanctuary has plenty- they’re not in want of anything there. They’ll pay tribute back to our communities-”

“Whoa, whoa, hold the goddamn cocksucking phone, Rick!” Negan interjected. “I don’t remember you saying any of this out there. Have you forgotten what  _ your _ people did? Let me wrack my brain here for a fucking second- oh yeah! You killed an absolute assload of my people! Did you conveniently fucking forget that?”

“You killed my husband!” Maggie shouted, standing up again. “Murdered him in front of me, laughed while you did it! Taunted Rosita after killing Abraham. Your people murdered our doctor, Denise, on the road months ago. We lost three more in the shootout at the Sanctuary. Tobin, Holly, Eric-”

“The shootout that  _ you _ assholes started!” Negan boomed angrily, rising from his seat. “I can name names of the dead, too! Molly, Richard, Tim. You people wanna fucking keep score? We can keep score. So you’ve got us down for six, right? You assholes killed more people than that in one go! Blew ‘em right up on the road. Seven of them. Then you took out a whole outpost of my men- that was about two dozen.  _ Then _ , there was the backup team that responded to the distress call from the outpost- another five. Out on the road, Daryl and a couple of your guys killed seven more. And yeah, they fucking started it by taking out your doctor. But that was seven lives for one, if we’re keeping score here. And then the two from the attack yesterday- and you're damn lucky that the building you bombed was empty! That’s almost  _ fifty _ fucking people that you assholes have killed, and you have the nerve to come in here and demand repayment for supplies? You’re shitting me, right?”

“We knew that the building we bombed yesterday was abandoned. It's why we chose to mount our attack there. Additionally, your men killed two of my own during a dropoff,” Ezekiel supplied. “And I know that the Hilltop’s first encounter with the Saviors was less than cordial.”

“Killed one of theirs, yep. Wow, you people have got me  _ almost _ at ten. Anyone else? You sure you’re not missin’ someone so you can have a nice even ten?” Negan asked nastily.

“We didn’t kill them to make a point. We killed them to survive. And we didn’t laugh about it. Didn’t enjoy it.” Maggie growled.

“I didn’t enjoy it, either. Fuck, I don’t  _ like _ doing that shit- that whole show with Lucille is meant to scare the ever-fucking piss outta people. And you know what? It  _ works _ . You terrify people into submission, you don’t _have_ to knock off all of them. One or two gets the job done.  Usually  it’s only one, but that fucking archer of yours seems to have some listening problems, so that's where your husband came in-”

Rick saw Maggie rearing up again at that and decided it was time to step in. “Alright! Alright, look, I see your point, Negan.”

Maggie narrowed her eyes at him. “Of course you do.”

Rick tried to shake of the sting of her words. “We killed a lot of people. You killed people, too. I’m not about to start comparing losses. I can’t, and it won’t get us anywhere.”

“I’m willing to be the bigger person here and let all that go,” Negan chimed in. “Clean slate, as it were. You killed a lot of my people, we took a lot of your shit. I  _ know _ you sentimental fucks aren’t about to start telling me that human lives are worth less than a few months’ worth of supplies, so the way I see it, you’re the ones who should be repaying me, but I’m a nice fucking guy, so I’m willing to let all that shit go.”

Michonne had to physically restrain Maggie from lunging across the table and wrapping her outstretched hands around Negan’s throat. Rick whirled on Negan, yanking him forward by the lapels of his jacket.

“You’re walkin’ on  _ real _ thin ice here, Negan. I’m sticking my fucking neck out for you. You don’t get to come in here and antagonize people and act all high and mighty. You and I both know that the people we killed weren’t anyone close to you, so don’t act like you know what anyone else here has lost because of you. You don’t talk to her like that. I’d have thought that by now you would’ve learned when to keep that big mouth of yours shut.”

Negan smirked up at him, and Rick caught a flash of the old, asshole version of Negan that he’d first met. Only now, he knew better than to think that it was anything more than a cover, a desperate bid at power in a room where he was outnumbered. “I seem to recall you liking my  _ big mouth _ , Rick. Particularly on your-”

“Enough!” Michonne shouted, slamming a palm on the tabletop to silence Negan’s vulgarity. “Do you have anything to actually contribute to this discussion, or do you just want to talk shit?”

Rick kept a tight hold on the front of Negan’s jacket, waiting with baited breath to hear if he was going to keep lashing out. Thankfully, he seemed to settle a bit. “I agreed to Rick’s original offer: a barter system between our communities, cooperation to clear out the surrounding roads so people can freely travel between the four safe zones, and all of us eventually working together to expand and provide for the people who live here. You may not like it, but I’ve said my piece about repaying what we took. It’s not happening. If it makes you feel better, think of it as repayment for the people you killed.” Michonne’s eyes flashed, and Negan held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not trying to fight you. _Er_ , anymore,” he corrected. “I’m just being straight with you. You killed a lot of people. I killed a few, took a lot of your shit. I’m willing to back off and call it square if you are.”

“Fine.” Michonne breathed out took her seat again across from Negan, and Rick followed suit. “I’d like to lay out some conditions, though. Nothing I feel is unreasonable.”

Negan’s eyebrows shot up, but he didn’t argue. “Go ahead.”

“You can’t be the one in charge of the Sanctuary anymore. We can’t trust you, as I’m sure you’ll understand.”

“Fuck no! Any of the rest of you stepping down as leader?”

“You subjugated people. And not just our people, but your own.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Negan snapped.

“I’m talking about the points system you have in place there. It’s barbaric. It’s all of the worst parts of the old world, and it doesn’t belong here. You have a harem of wives that are willing to leave their partners and trade their bodies just so they can escape from it. You have people risking their lives working with walkers in unsafe conditions, you have a hierarchy system that supports the strong and preys on the misfortune of the weak. We’re trying to make this new world better, and your way of doing things has no place here.”

“How in the fuck do you know about all that?” Negan snapped, eyes flicking toward Rick. There was a distrust there that Rick didn’t like, but couldn’t fault him for. Now wasn’t the time for them to work on their trust issues.

“Don’t look at him,” A familiar voice came from behind them, and Rick saw the way Negan’s whole body seized up furiously at the sound of it. “Look at me. I’m the one who told them what the conditions were like at the Sanctuary. I’m also the one who told them that that storage facility was safe to bomb so they wouldn’t run the risk of more casualties than necessary, by the way.” 

“Dwighty boy,” Negan spat. “I wondered where my favorite fucking turncoat went when Simon told me you slipped off. And here you are. Taking up with the enemy.”

Dwight snorted, joining them calmly at the table beside Ezekiel. “Sounds like they’re not the enemy anymore, Negan.”

Michonne broke in again before Negan could start in on Dwight. “You two can talk about this later. On your own time. Right now, we have people waiting on us to give them orders. Negan, that’s my offer. We drop our original offer and do what Rick suggested. Nobody dies, you and your men walk free. You dissolve the point system at the Sanctuary and implement a more just and equal system where people aren’t selling themselves to get by. Don’t tell me it can’t be done, because that’s what’s been working in Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom for years. You will also relinquish control over the Sanctuary to someone who won’t abuse their power like you have. Considering you’ve had us under constant threat of violence for months and took our leader, I think that’s more than fair.”

“And just who do you suggest take over?” Negan crossed his arms in front of his chest, glaring daggers at Dwight. “ _ Him? _ The guy who wouldn’t know about loyalty if it bit him square on the ass? Or are you just gonna have no fucking pretenses at all about letting the Saviors keep our home and just send in one of your people to do the job?”

“What about Simon? Or Arat?” Rick suggested. “They’re your highest ranking soldiers, right?”

“Yeah,” Negan replied. “And they’re just that: soldiers. I’m not knockin’ them, not one goddamn bit, but they don’t know the shit I do on a day to day basis to keep the place running. Everything they do is because I gave them a direct order.”

Rick shared a glance at Michonne. “What if Negan was to stay in power-” Maggie made an outraged noise- “but only partially? Do you remember what we did in the prison? How we had a council? What if it was like that, him and Arat and Simon and Dwight?”

It was Negan’s turn to make an angry sound, but Rick waved him down. “Negan, we need to know that you’re running things the way we agree to here. Michonne and Maggie clearly trust Dwight more than they trust you, understandably so.”

“You ever think that maybe I don’t want to be in charge of the Sanctuary?” Dwight asked. “I don’t wanna sit around policing him and cleaning up the shitshow he made the Saviors into.”

Negan growled and turned in his seat, only to be drawn back by Rick’s hand on his arm. “Then you don’t have to stay in power. Give it a month, _just a month_ , and see how you feel. All you have to do is make sure him and the others aren’t steppin’ out of line. If they make the proper changes and stick to them, in a month you can step down.”

Dwight seemed to consider this, fingers tapping on the tabletop. “Fine.”

Maggie regarded Dwight warily. “I don’t know how I feel about him being the one to keep them in line. He’s the one who killed Denise.”

“For once, you and I are in agreement,” Negan muttered, and then his eyes lit up with a flame that Rick knew too well. “In fact, I think I’ll need someone there to keep me on the straight and narrow, you know? Someone who knows all about leading people with the gentle fucking touch you’re all wanting.”

Michonne’s eyes narrowed, boring into Negan. “No. Rick is coming home. That’s non-negotiable. You’ve kept him away from his people, his  _ family _ , for far too long.”

“He’s my husband, so technically, I think that means he’s my family, too.” Negan grinned smugly.

Rick was frozen in his seat, unsure of what to say. Negan couldn’t really mean that, right?  He was just trying to get under Michonne’s skin, stake his claim while he still could.

“He’s your _husband_ because you forced his hand. Now that this new agreement has been reached, I think it’s safe to say your marriage to him can be annulled. He’s coming home.” Michonne replied.

“C’mon! Give me a month with him. One last fucking month.  _ Jesus _ , I’m already gonna be losing my wives since the points system is getting removed, can’t you just let me enjoy him a little fucking longer?”

“No.”

Rick could feel his face heating up, the gazes of Ezekiel and Maggie and Dwight weighing heavily on him while Negan and Michonne tried to barter for his time.

“A week,” Negan said, the candor of his voice suddenly softer, more vulnerable than Rick had ever seen him around other people. “Please. I know that- fuck, I know you want him home. I do. I fucking get it, believe me. I’d want him back, too. But- please. Please, just give me a week with him. Just a little more time. I’ve, ah.” Rick watched in utter shock as Negan dodged Michonne’s intense gaze swallowed, throat bobbing. “I’ve gotten attached to him. You know I’m not fucking hurting him, Michonne. Please. You know I wouldn’t fucking do anything to him. I just want one more week before he leaves.”

The table was silent. Dwight and Maggie were both pointedly frowning at the floor, clearly uncomfortable with the discussion. Ezekiel was watching with both rapt fascination and a bit of discomfort. Michonne, though- she looked at war with herself. She leaned forward, elbows resting on the tabletop, staring at Negan like she was trying to excavate the remnants of the person inside buried beneath the layers of asshole and mockery. Rick appreciated that she was even trying to look at him with any way other than hatred- he couldn’t have blamed her for a second if she’d simply written him off as a lost cause.

“Three days,” She said quietly. “He can stay there for three days, just to help you dissolve the point system and deal with the initial fallout. After that, it’s on Dwight, Simon, and Arat to keep you in line. Rick,” she turned to him, and Rick could see the hurt in her eyes before she even asked the question. “Is that okay with you?”

It shouldn’t have been easy to say yes, but it was.

“Yes.”

He couldn’t look at Negan, couldn’t allow himself to see whatever was laid out on the man’s face for him, but he felt him relax in the chair beside him. “Thank you.”

“Anything else?” Michonne asked, not responding to Negan’s gratitude. Someone who didn’t know her well would think that what just transpired hadn’t affected her at all: she was all business, cool and collected as she addressed the others.

Rick knew better.

“Yes,” Ezekiel said, his deep voice soothing against the tense air of the room. “I believe we should set up a neutral ground between our territories. A place for us to meet as leaders and discuss plans and progress. Twice a month, perhaps? And that gives us a way of checking up on the Sanctuary, so to speak.”

Maggie nodded. “Yeah. That would be good. Could take some time to find a place and clear it out, though. Not to mention maintain it.”

“Until then, what if we were to meet in each of our respective communities?” Ezekiel suggested. “I believe Rick is the only one who has been inside the Sanctuary’s walls. Until today, I had never set foot in Alexandria, and I still have yet to see the Hilltop. It would be wise to see what the other communities have to offer.”

“I agree,” Michonne said. “All of us agree to keep an eye out for a place we could use that’s less of a drive for everyone. Until then, every two weeks we’ll meet at a different community.” She looked up at Negan. “Starting with the Sanctuary, since, as Ezekiel said, nobody but Rick has been there. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Negan nodded.

“Good,” Michonne stood. “Now, if we’re done here, let’s go tell the others. Last thing we need is someone getting too impatient out there with their fingers on a trigger.”

* * *

Negan grabbed Dwight’s arm on their way out and pulled him aside rather unkindly. “What the actual and absolute tap-dancing fuck, Dwight? You’re a fucking traitor? You’ve been over here sellin’ secrets to them?”

Dwight shoved him off, glaring up at him through stringy blonde hair. “Yeah, I have. And you should be glad I did, too. It all worked out in the end, didn’t it?”

“Why?” Negan hissed. “Why the fuck would you-”

“How fucking stupid are you? Do you really need me to answer that? Look at my goddamned  _ face _ , Negan! Jesus Christ. You stole my wife and burned half my fucking face off. There’s your fucking reason.”

“Okay,” Negan conceded. “Fine. Fine. The face I fucking get. Ruined those boyish good looks. Or did I? Fuck, I can’t even remember what you looked like before.”

“ _ Negan _ ,” Dwight seethed.

“Sorry. But that I get. Sherry? Fuck, Dwighty boy, you’re still hung up over her? After she left you?”

“You _stole_ her from me!”

“Oh for the love of fuck-” Negan rolled his eyes. “You know why Sherry married me, Dwight? It’s because she’s  _ smart _ . That woman is an opportunistic, astute fucker, and she saw an opportunity to survive and took it.”

“You didn’t have to say yes. Didn’t have to  _ offer _ it to her in the first place.”

“Is that what you would have wanted, Dwight? You would have wanted her to stay with you even though she didn’t want you? You want to be some woman’s fucking consolation prize? Because that’s what you would have been. She plays life like a damn carnival game, and she saw how good, how  _ easy _ she could have it if she married me, and she thought,  _ goddamn, I don’t want this fucking plastic finger puppet motherfucker, I want that giant fucking stuffed bear. I want the best I can get _ .”

Dwight looked about ready to slug the shit out of him, fists clenching at his sides. “What the fuck are you saying? Honestly, what the  _ fuck _ does that even mean?”

“It means that Sherry married me for the perks, and you should find someone who’s not gonna dump your Freddy Kreuger-looking ass for a comfy bed and free bourbon. I really and truly fucking hope that you don’t go crawling back to her, Dwight. I really do. Because even after you decided to go all Brutus and Caesar on me, I still don’t want to see you stoop that fuckin’ low. She doesn’t love you, Dwight. You gotta know that by now. She left you, cheated on me with you, and then left you all over again so you could get raked over the coals.  _ Literally _ . You’re better than that. Find a nice girl and move on already.”

With that, he left Dwight in the hall, following the others out toward the gates again.

* * *

Rick sprinted to catch up with Maggie.  _ She’s damn fast for a pregnant woman _ , he thought wryly.  _ Either that, or she’s trying to avoid me. _

Given the way she swerved away from him when he tried to walk in stride beside her, he figured it was probably that. He reached out, not grabbing, just placing a gentle hand on her forearm. “Maggie. Please. I just need-”

She rounded on him, her face as dangerous as he’d ever seen it. “What? What do you need, Rick? You want my seal of approval on this plan that lets my husband’s murderer not only walk free, but stay in charge of his group of killers? You want my blessing on your  _ relationship _ ?” She looked disgusted. “I didn’t want to believe it, Rick. When I heard that you and he were- I didn’t want to believe it was true. I still don’t want to, but there it is. Right there at that table. In front of me, in front of _Michonne_ -” she shook her head, and he felt absolutely scolded.  _ She’ll make a hell of a mom. Got that disappointed look down pat. _

“I know,” he rasped. “I know, Maggie. Believe me, I never meant for-” he sighed, forcing the excuses away. There was no excuse, after all. “I’m sorry. I am. I know this is the last thing you want, him goin’ free. If it had been Michonne, I know I’d be in your place, and I know that’s not fair. I _know_ it’s not. I’m not gonna ask you to be okay with it. I can’t ask that of any of you. Just…just know that this agreement did stop people from dying. And not just his people, either. I have no doubt in my mind that we could have won, Maggie. And I say  _ we _ , because I am on your side. I was always on your side. You, Michonne, Carl, my family- you all come first. If I had to, if it came down to it, I would have killed him myself. I wouldn’t have liked it, but I would have, if it meant keeping my family safe. But I didn’t have to. Even if we would have won this war, we would have lost people. A lot of people. Like it or not, what just happened here, what we all agreed to? It saved lives.”

“I know that,” Maggie said, her green eyes bright and sharp as the blade of a knife. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like the rest of it.”

* * *

Rick needed to talk to Michonne. Needed to ask her why they didn’t tell him about the attack when he was here- he was fucking  _ here _ just a handful of hours before they left to break down the Sanctuary’s front gate. She was busy, though- not looking at him, and he had to wonder how much of it was because she was in leadership mode and how much was her avoiding him like Maggie wanted to.

Michonne let Negan and Dwight out the front gates so they could explain the situation to the Saviors, and then she addressed the crowd that she’d called down off of the walls.

“We’ve come to a decision. There will be no war between us and the Saviors.” There was a confused twitter through the crowd. “Rick has come up with a plan. A plan to keep people alive, to spare us from the heartache and loss that fighting the Saviors would have brought. There are parts of his plan that you may not like, may not agree with- that’s alright. That’s understandable, and believe me, your voices on the matter will be heard. But this  _ is _ what we’re going to do. And this  _ is _ a good plan.” She turned to Rick then, gesturing for him to step forward beside her. “Tell them your plan, Rick.” There was strength in her eyes, both old and newfound, and Rick felt a rush of pride in knowing that she had stepped up so much and become the leader that these people needed. The one that  _ he _ needed.

“Everyone,” he began, “Jesus said something to me, the first time we met. He called this the next world. At the time, my view of this world was narrow, small. It was just of me, my people, my family. Alexandria. I’ve seen, and so have the rest of you, that the next world is much bigger than our individual communities. And I believe it can become even bigger. I believe, if we work together, we can make this into a new beginning.”

* * *

Negan told the Saviors as little as possible to get them back into their trucks and away from Alexandria: there would be no war, they had reached an agreement with the rebels that called for a ceasefire. There had been some dissent- some particularly rowdy soldiers that objected on the grounds that they were only here to get revenge for what the rebels had done to the Sanctuary.

Negan had menacingly swung Lucille around in a few people’s faces to get them to shut up. Might as well use that trick while he still could, right? He got the distinct impression that Rick and his merry band of benevolent leaders would frown heavily on violence against people to get what he wanted.

On that note, he realized that telling the Saviors about the rest- the dissolution of the points system, the kinder approach to leadership, whatever the fuck that meant- might not incite anger after all. It wouldn’t- confusion, definitely. Probably some frustration and whining from his high ranking soldiers that got used to an easier lifestyle than most, but for the most part…people would probably be glad for the change.

The thought both soured his mood and made him feel relieved. Rick, the astute son of a bitch, had truly worked it all out in everyone’s favor.

_ Everyone’s except mine _ , he thought as Rick emerged through the gates.  _ May not have died, but what will I have after these three days are up? I’ll be splitting my power with three other people, I won’t be living as fucking good as I was before, my wives will all be gone, and Rick- _

He swallowed hard, suddenly lurching forward and pulling Rick into his arms, burying his face into the crook of his shoulder and breathing him in. Rick gave a breathless laugh, hands rubbing up Negan’s back. “Hey,” he murmured, “I’m…I’m really fucking glad you’re alright, Negan. I can’t tell you how happy I am that this worked.”

Negan swallowed, clutching Rick a little tighter.  _ I’ve got three more days with him, and then he’ll be gone, too.  _


	12. Chapter 12

The Saviors were gathered below Negan- for the last time, he realized. Everything from here moving forward would see him with Arat, Simon, and Dwight by his side instead of a couple feet back, giving him space to break the news. The people beneath him would no longer be  _ beneath _ him, but his equals.

Looking down at them now, he tried to swallow his pride best he could and not let the thought bother him. The mocking words he’d spoken to Rick the first night they’d met came back to him suddenly:  _ “You got used to being King Shit. All that power, being in charge. You were probably addicted to it.” _

Yeah. Those words didn’t taste so good now.

“By now, you all know that we’re not going to war with the other communities,” he began, voice booming over the crowd. “And I’m sure you’re all wondering why the fuck not. These assholes came barging in and broke down our gates. Killed some of our people, and in return we defended ourselves.”

“You all heard their original deal: we surrender, all of our soldiers- half of our people- are executed. Life goes on real happy for them, not so hot for us. That’s not what’s happening here. I’ve been offered a different deal, and this time, I took it. I’m not gonna fucking lie- I don’t like all of it. But this? This is the only way that all of us get through this shit alive and kicking. We could have fought them- abso-fucking-lutely, we could have. We’ve got strong people, weapons. But so do they. We don’t have the advantage of numbers anymore with them united, and engaging in a war risks all of our lives.”

“So here’s the deal. Nobody fucking dies- nobody. None of us, none of them. We’re going to be releasing the other communities from their contracts with us- no more pickups, no more taking supplies from them with nothing in exchange.”

There it was, finally- the outrage. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he enjoyed it while it lasted- the shouts of confusion and protest from his soldiers in particular. He could pick phrases out of the din of the crowd if he listened hard enough.

_ “-the fuck?” _

_ “What will we do for food?” _

_ “Why the hell would he-” _

“Enough!” Negan roared over the noise, and silence fell almost immediately.  _ I’ll fucking miss that _ . “I know you have concerns. Some valid fucking concerns about where our supplies will come from. Here’s the thing- the Saviors? We’re not on our own anymore. Part of our peace agreement is that we join the alliance between the other communities. They’ve begun establishing a system of trade, and are going to begin working to expand their territories. More safe zones, more places for people to live, more farms. And that’s what we’re going to be a part of now. If we need something from the other communities, we’ll trade for it. We’ve already begun to work on a garden here, and in time, we’ll expand it so that we won’t have to rely on others for food. Until then, we trade for it, and we scavenge. We as a community have become complacent: we only occasionally go out to scavenge, preferring to rely on others for our supplies. No more of that. We’re gonna start fucking building something here. We’re gonna start doing more than just surviving. It’s time to rebuild the goddamned world. All of us.”

“Another stipulation of the agreement is that the point system that we have here is going to be dissolved. The leaders of Alexandria, the Hilltop, and the Kingdom have systems in place that, as they put it, are  _ kinder _ .” He tried his best not to twist the word to make it sound mocking. “The way the Sanctuary is run will undergo a lot of changes. I will no longer be the sole leader. Simon, Arat, and Dwight will be leading alongside me, and together we’re going to change this place for the better, make it into a place that you don’t have to struggle to survive in.”

At that, the crowd broke into murmurs of confusion, and Simon stepped up beside him, nodding down at the people below. “You want me to explain, bo-  _ Negan _ _?”_ He corrected himself. “I know it’s not all set in stone, but I think I get enough of the gist that I can calm ‘em down. Don’t want a fucking riot on our hands as they charge the marketplace.”

Negan groaned at the thought. “Yeah. Settle them the fuck down. Explain how shit’s gonna work for now.” Reluctantly, he took a step back and allowed Simon to address the crowd. He was only half listening as Simon calmed them and explained that nothing would happen all at once, for now everyone would keep their same jobs until a rotating schedule was introduced so nobody was stuck in the same shithole job for long.

There was more, but Negan couldn’t listen to it. Everything he’d spent so much time establishing here, gone in a day. It was a fucking tragedy, he thought- how the hell they were going to be able to work out a system where people weren’t stuck working shitty jobs, he had no idea.

“Hey,” a warm hand slid underneath his jacket, settling on the small of his back, and he couldn’t help the way he pressed into the affection. “It’s gonna work out. It is. It’s gonna take some time, but this will all work out for the better.”

Rick, the voice of reason and calm. He wanted to believe him. He really did. But-

“The Sanctuary’s been runnin’ like this a long fucking time, Rick. We’ve got more people living together here than in Alexandria. It’s not as simple as ‘alright, everybody just do your goddamned best’.”

Rick gave him an admonishing look that had Negan wanting to childishly roll his eyes. “That’s not what you’re askin’ them to do. Half the people here, the workin’ half that have been just scraping by under this system? They’re gonna be glad for any kind of change that means them not having to risk their lives for a meal on a daily basis or scrape together points for medicine if they get sick. Nobody should be goin’ hungry, not with how much you have here. Nobody should be skipping meals and taking on more work than they can manage just to get medical care. It’ll work. You can make it work.”

Negan blinked down at the man beside him and caught a glimpse of the tenacious leader that had kept the people of Alexandria safe for so long. He’d thought for a long time that that side of Rick had been ground into the dirt beneath the heel of Negan’s boot when his friends-  _ Glenn and Abraham _ , he reminded himself- had met Lucille. Now, in light of the past day, he saw Rick clearly, perhaps for the first time. That man may have been hiding, but he had never left, not completely.

Strangely, he thought that he might love Rick even more for it.

“You really think this will fucking work?” He asked.

Rick gazed up at him, his face confident and whole for the first time in a long time. “Yeah,” he said, eyes crinkling as he smiled. “I really think it will.”

* * *

The first day was a blur, made up mostly of Negan, Rick, Dwight, Simon, and Arat holed up in Negan’s bedroom, pouring over binders full of Negan’s notes on running the Sanctuary- jobs, points, people. Who did what and how much everything cost, while the five of them discussed how best to transition from assigned menial labor to a new system.

“This isn’t going to fucking work,” Negan repeated for what was probably the tenth time in an hour judging by the weary looks on the other’s faces. “It’s just not. There’s too much shit that’s gotta be done and nobody’s gonna want to work on the wall anymore, do the hard shit. The people who are trained are all going to want to go out on runs to avoid having so do shit here.”

“Then you need to start training all the people who want to learn,” Rick sighed. “You keep saying that half the people here are used to relying on people to protect them- it’s on you all to change that. The people in Alexandria used to be the same way. Worse, even. When my group first came in, hardly anyone there had ever gone outside the walls. They’d been there since the beginning, didn’t know how to fight. We had to change that. You can do it, too. You can help them protect themselves.”

It had been dark for hours when Simon, Dwight, and Arat finally took their leave. Rick looked exhausted, eyes hooded and weary as he piled the papers into neat stacks on the coffee table. It was the first time they’d been alone together since everything had happened, and all at once Negan was almost overwhelmed by everything he needed to say to him. He padded over, slumping onto the couch beside Rick and watching the man’s busy hands.

“I thought I was going to have to kill you,” Negan said quietly, and Rick’s motions stilled. “I really fucking did. I thought I was going to have to go to your home and kill all the people there, the people you fucking love, and then I’d come back here and have to kill you, too.” He swallowed thickly, staring down at his hands, and felt Rick lean back so that he was facing Negan. “I didn’t want to. I knew that I was gonna have to- I couldn’t have you here, locked up somewhere, hating me again. I couldn’t.”

Rick was silent beside him, and Negan didn’t know why he felt the need to ask- if it was to ease the burden of his own conscience, or something else entirely. “Would you have killed me? If I’d attacked, if I hadn’t taken the deal. Would you have been able to do it?”

“If it came down to the choice between your life and the lives of my family, my children? Yeah. I would have.”

Rick’s voice was unreadable, and Negan couldn’t decide if his words made him feel better or worse.

Then, Rick’s hand was on his face, warm and steady and turning Negan to look at him. “I wouldn’t have wanted to, though. I didn’t. I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”

Negan couldn’t help himself- it was a terrible reason to kiss someone, but in three days he wouldn’t have a reason to kiss Rick at all, so he went for it, folding the smaller man into his arms and bringing their lips together.  _ I love you _ , he wanted to say.  _ Don’t fucking go. Don’t fucking leave me alone after you came in and turned my whole world on its fucking head. Please stay with me. _

“None of it was a lie,” Rick whispered against his lips. “None of it, Negan. You know that, right? I don’t want you to think that I- I wouldn’t still be here if I’d been lying to you. Today, you and Michonne- it felt like hell, the way you two were trying to pull me in two different directions. I felt like a child in the middle of a custody battle.”

Negan winced. “I’m- fuck, I’m sorry. Rick. I just- I-” he swallowed, shamefaced, dipping his forehead so that it rested on Rick’s shoulder. He was tired, so fucking  _ tired _ . “I didn’t mean it like that. We should have asked.  _ I _ should have. I just…I wanted a little more time with you. It was fucking selfish, but that’s who I am, Rick.”

Rick breathed out a low chuckle that ruffled Negan’s hair. “I know. And I- I think it’s nice. That you’re  _ attached _ to me.” Negan tensed, getting defensive, and Rick immediately caught it and defused him. “It’s a good thing. It is. It’s what gave me hope that you could change, that all of this would work. And I don’t mind spending a few more days here. Don’t get me wrong, I want to be home. I want to see my kids, tuck Judith into bed at night, see my friends again. Don't do shit like that again. I can't have you askin' me to choose. But if I minded coming back with you, I wouldn’t be here. I’m here because I want to be, Negan.”

And for the first time, Negan realized, that was completely the case. Rick was finally free to leave, but he’d chosen to stick around and say goodbye.

Negan swallowed against the lump in his throat and pulled the man into his chest, tucking Rick’s head beneath his chin. Rick went willingly, sweet and pliant beneath his touch as they curled together on the couch, his arms coming up to circle around Negan’s middle, holding tight.

* * *

Negan woke up the next morning with a horrific ache in his neck that he didn’t understand until he opened his eyes and realized that he and Rick had fallen asleep tangled together on the tiny couch.

In spite of his stiff neck, the first thing that crossed his mind was,  _ fuck, that’s one night down and I didn’t even get to fuck him. _

Rick was still solidly asleep, enough so that when Negan gently maneuvered his wrist up to check the time on his watch, he didn’t stir except to cuddle further into Negan’s chest.  _ Just past six _ . He couldn’t wake the man up- he looked too peaceful, chestnut curls strewn messily across his forehead.

_ Besides _ , he reasoned, carefully disentangling himself from Rick,  _ can’t do shit to him with my back this sore. _

Luckily, he knew just the early riser to get him straightened out.

Frankie was in her usual morning spot, lounging in a plush armchair by the window overlooking the treeline outside the wives’ lounge. She gave him a knowing smirk as he pulled up a chair beside her and offered him a warm mug of coffee that smelled better than instant shit had the right to.

“Looks like you need a pick me up,” she said, and he gratefully took a gulp, choking around a mouthful as it burned unnaturally on its way down his throat. She burst into laughter, nose crinkling as he shoved the mug back at her and wiped his mouth. “Jesus, I thought you could smell it in there! I wasn’t trying to sneak it by you or anything.”

“Why the fuck are you drinking so goddamned early?” He challenged, recovering.

“Figured I may as well enjoy it while I can, right?” She took a small sip, looking pensive. “Can’t imagine they’re just gonna be giving this stuff away for free to us anymore.”

Negan sighed. “Yeah. Meant to come talk to you girls about that yesterday, but we got caught up trying to figure out what the fuck we’re gonna do with everyone here.”

“”We’re gonna need to find actual jobs, right? I mean, now that the points system is gone- you’re no better off than anyone else to provide for us.” Negan clenched his jaw, eyes flashing, and Frankie reached over to give his hand a gentle squeeze. “Men and their fucking  _ pride _ . Swallow your ego for a minute, Negan. It’ll do you some good.”

“Been swallowing it a whole goddamn lot since yesterday,” Negan snapped. “I don’t need you to tell me how it fucking is. I know how it is. I know you girls are gonna be makin’ your own way from now on. Doesn’t mean I want you rubbing it in my fucking face.”

Frankie sighed and pushed her mug back into his hands. “Drink. You’re being a real dick.” She looked at him pointedly until he took a sip. “There. Cheer the fuck up, Negan. At least we’re not all dead. The way those people were talking when they took down the gates, I’m shocked they let you live. They seemed like they were out for blood.”

“Yeah, well,” He muttered into the coffee, “Rick talked ‘em down.”

Frankie’s eyes suddenly lit up with recognition. “Oh, that explains your pissy mood. Forgot about that. Your husband's gone.”

There was no malice in her voice, but Negan felt something in him snap anyway. “He’ll be gone in two fucking days, actually. And that’s not why I’m- I’m not in a fucking  _ pissy _ mood.”

Frankie slid out of her seat and came up behind him, her deft fingers kneading the kinks in his shoulders. “You are. And that’s alright. You got a lot of reasons to be.” She dug her fingers into a particularly painful spot at the base of his neck. “That boy sleep on your neck or something? You’re all knotted up right here.”

Negan breathed into the painful working of his muscles. “Fell asleep on the couch. Woke up all fucked up.” Frankie hummed, thumbs digging in, and Negan felt his anger melt away with the ache and give way to sorrow. “I’m losin’ everything, Frankie. You girls, my power, my hold on this place. Rick. I’m not ready to let it all go. Yesterday, the world was fucking mine, and now-” he trailed off miserably, staring into the bottom of the mug.

“And now you’ve gotta earn the stuff you want instead of just takin’ it,” Frankie said gently. “Look on the bright side, Negan. Anything you keep, anything you have from now on- you know that you deserve it. _Really_ deserve it.”

“That’s the fucking problem,” Negan said thickly, “I don’t deserve any of the shit I really want.”  _ Don’t deserve the man I love. Just like I didn’t deserve Lucille. _

The thought made his eyes burn, and he downed the rest of the mug. “I’ll get you more,” he promised. “I’ll take care of you girls, make sure you get jobs that you like. It’s the least I can fucking do. I promised I’d take care of you, and I will. What do you wanna do, Frankie? Where do you want to work? Name it, and that’s where you’ll go.”

Frankie paused, thinking for a moment. “I’d like to work in the infirmary. Train with doctor Carson. I already know about muscles, so that’s a start. I want to help people, make them feel better.”

Negan turned in his seat, the crick in his neck gone, and caught Frankie’s hand between his own, kissing the back of it gently. “You’ve got it, darlin’.”

* * *

When Negan returned to his room, Rick was still soundly asleep on the couch, looking uncomfortably curled on his side. He knew that Rick was a light enough sleeper that trying to lift him up and move him to the bed would wake him, so he made do by tucking a pillow beneath his head.

The sky outside the windows was still tinged with darkness, the barest hints of light blue creeping in over the treeline. The only people awake were those like Frankie, who just enjoyed watching the sun rise, and fitful sleepers like himself.

He had no desire to watch the sun rise over the trees and remind him that his hours left with Rick were few. Instead, he sank onto the floor next to the couch, watching Rick as he slept and tracing the lines of his fingers and forearm, memorizing every freckle.

_ I’m gonna take you one last time before you go. Gonna fucking get you naked and work you slow, make love to you. _ The thought was cheesy, he knew- sentimental in a way that he couldn’t stand to be, but that he could no longer help. Everything between him and Rick had always been so focused on the physical- both of them getting off, him making Rick squirm and sigh and moan in ways that belonged entirely to him. He’d always wanted to get to the part where Rick came undone under him or atop him, impatient and hungry. Now, all he wanted was the time to take the man slowly, work him over until he couldn’t find the breath to gasp anything other than Negan’s name, memorize every inch of him. At least then, when he looked back on his time with Rick, he would have something to draw on, something to cling tight to when he lay alone and missing him in the bed that used to be theirs.

Negan watched morosely as soft yellow light swam in through the windows, painting Rick in warm shades of color.

_ Dawn is breaking. It’s a brand new day, Rick. _

Rick stretched awake, bare feet bumping the arm of the couch. His hand reached out, searching blindly with his eyes still closed. “Negan?”

Negan wondered how the sound of his name spoken so softly in Rick’s sleep-thick drawl could simultaneously make his heart swell and break.

“Yeah,” he murmured, leaning in close and catching Rick’s hand beneath his own. “I’m right here, Rick.”

“Mm,” Rick hummed, smiling faintly as his eyes fluttered open, gazing warmly up at Negan. “Mornin’.”

Negan’s lips were on Rick’s, gentle and caressing, before he could even make the decision to kiss him. He was drawn to Rick by some force beyond his own control, a gravitational pull that always sent Negan careening straight for him. It struck him then, as Rick cupped his face and kissed him back so tenderly, that every move between them had seemed inevitable to him: their meeting and his weakness for Rick paving the way for Rick to show him kindness in return. Every touch, every kiss, Negan hadn’t questioned it. It had seemed a natural progression to him, because of course: _this is the man I want, this is the man I will have._

It was only now that he realized that their last kiss was just as inevitable as the first.

He clung a little more tightly at the thought, and when Rick was finally able to draw back, he was flushed and breathless. “You haven’t been awake long, have you? It’s just now gettin’ light.”

Negan thumbed over Rick’s cheekbones, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. “Not too long, baby. Just long enough to work up an appetite.” He leaned in close, hands smoothing down Rick’s sides so that the smaller man was left with no doubt about what that appetite was for. “Now get up with me and get in the shower. I’m fucking pissed I didn’t get your clothes off last night.”

Rick laughed, gruff and full of mirth as he pushed himself up. “We were a little busy. It had been a long day, you know.”

Negan eyed the way Rick slid out of his jeans, his shirt hanging unbuttoned on his strong shoulders. “That’s no fucking excuse. And I’m gonna make up for it, mark my words.”

* * *

The day went by in a dull blur of more papers and notes and delegation. Eventually, when it could no longer be avoided, the five of them called a meeting among the entirety of the Saviors again, instructing them to give their names and any interest they may have in future job assignments. It had been Rick’s idea, of course- ask the people what they want, see where their interests lay. The resulting stack of papers had Negan groaning, but as Rick pointed out, “You don’t have to bend to their every demand, Negan. Just take it into consideration. Make them feel like they’re being heard.”

Negan was in a mood- he knew it, Rick knew it, Simon and the others knew it. It was a powerful, raging thing inside his chest, lashing out at the others every time they had something that was just  _ so fucking helpful _ to say about their situation. It was petty, born of bitterness, but he clung to it like the desperate man that he was, because underneath his snapping and snarling was something he was far from prepared to deal with.

Simon, Arat, and Dwight got fed up fast, and ended up leaving much earlier than the night before after Negan had started shouting at them to “ _ Just fucking do all this shit yourselves, since you wanna be in charge so fucking bad-” _

He rounded on Rick when they left, something ugly welling up in his chest. “And why don’t you just get the fuck out, too? Just go back fucking home, we don’t fucking need you here, I don’t fucking need you here. You’re the one who fucked everything up, took everything away from me-” Pain skittered across Rick’s face before it gave way to something almost pitying, and that-  _ that _ , Negan couldn’t take.

He sank onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands, feeling for a moment that he may actually cry with the weight of it all. Pity. Rick  _ pitied _ him.

“Negan,” Rick murmured, standing between his legs and tipping his face up to look at him properly. “Baby, you need a break. Let’s take a break from this for the night, alright?”  _ Baby _ . Rick had never,  _ never _ called him anything like that before, and hearing it now, when he had only one more day with him, was a painful twist of the knife. He couldn’t help himself- he reached for Rick, a man possessed, and pawed at his back, arms around his waist while Rick cradled his head against his stomach. Fingers stroked through his hair, sweet and soothing, and Negan felt himself grow pliant under Rick’s easy touch.

_ Don’t leave. Please don’t fucking leave me. _

Rick slid into his lap, lifting his shirt over his head and baring himself to Negan. “Let me take care of you tonight, Negan. Let me help.”

Negan couldn’t think of a better way to work off steam than having Rick Grimes pull him apart at the seams.

* * *

“Stay in bed with me,” Negan murmured when he felt Rick stir against him in the morning. “Please. Simon and Arat and Dwight can handle shit today.”

Rick slung a strong leg over his waist, pulling himself in closer. “We can’t just lay here all day, Negan. I’m supposed to be here helpin’ you get this place in order.”

“Rome wasn’t built in a fucking day, Rick. Or three fucking days, for that matter. C’mon. Just you and me today, alright? We don’t have to stay in here if you don’t want, but if I have to hear Dwight say ‘ _ this is for the best’ _ one more goddamned time, I’m gonna start beating  _ myself _ over the head with Lucille.”

Rick pulled himself up to lay atop Negan, hovering above him. “Fine. You win. Just you and me.” He smiled as he said it, leaning down to kiss Negan on the lips.

* * *

Their day wasn’t spent in bed- Rick, ever the worker bee, insisted on being productive with their time. After breakfast, they ended up out in the garden, autumn chill ruffling their hair as they dug into the soil side by side.

Rick looked completely at home among the greenery, Negan thought. His hair was slicked back with sweat despite the breeze, sleeves of his now-grimy shirt rolled up past his elbows. He’d turned Negan down when he’d suggested that he go shirtless to work in the dirt- “It’s too cold for that, Negan,” he’d insisted, but Negan made do with watching his strong forearms as he plowed.

They called it a day around mid-afternoon when they both suddenly realized that they were dead on their feet and too tired and hungry to do anything more. Negan fetched them food from the mess hall- they’d already changed up cooks, fortunately, and the hearty bean soup was not only edible, but downright heavenly in their famished states. Negan tugged Rick further away from the garden, down toward the far wall where it was quieter, deserted save for the lookout up in the guard tower and the patrols that passed through every so often.

“Where’d you learn all this, Rick? The farming, I mean. I thought you were a sheriff before the dead started walkin’.”

Rick took a slurp of soup, licking his lips. “Sheriff’s deputy,” he corrected. “And I learned it after. Maggie’s father- his name was Hershel- he taught me. Back at the prison. We had a long time where things were peaceful there, and I wanted to make something of the place, make it a home. After Lori…I was gone. I started seein’ things, Negan. Seein’ _her_. I wasn’t there for Carl like I needed to be at first, and he suffered for it, started becoming too harsh, too much of the new world taking over him. Hershel saw that when I couldn’t, and it was him that made me realize that people could still come back, that we could have some kind of life.”

“He sounds like a hell of a man.”

“He was,” Rick agreed, that familiar mix of fondness and melancholy in his voice that people always had when talking about the dead.

“Probably would have hated me,” Negan mused, not meaning for it to come out as bitterly as it did.

“You did…kill his son-in-law,” Rick said quietly, and all of a sudden Negan’s stomach flipped over, realizing just how delicate the ground he’d just trodden on was.  _ Fuck. _ He slurped his soup, unsure, for once, what to say.

“He told me once, while we were working in the garden, that things break, but they can still grow,” Rick said, sounding pensive. His hand covered Negan’s, squeezing tight.

* * *

Negan’s heart was heavy as he and Rick made their way up to their room- that would once again be solely  _ his _ room after tomorrow. The thought of it- of not being able to wake up next to Rick, fall asleep with the man’s warmth pressed against him, kiss him and touch him and see the affectionately annoyed looks he gave when Negan made a particularly raunchy joke, made him ache.

He drew Rick’s clothes off slowly, guiding him under the warm spray of the shower and lathering his body, possessively loving the knowledge that Rick would smell like him- his soap, his shampoo- even once he was back home.

When Rick responded in kind, running his hands over Negan’s wet skin, he let him. For now. Once they got to the bed, Rick would have to relinquish control.

Negan rubbed Rick dry, fingering through his long curls and nudging him back onto the bed, urging him to lie back against the pillows.

“Get comfortable, baby,” he purred. “You’re gonna be here a while.”

Flushed, Rick smiled up at him. “That so?”

Negan swooped in, capturing the man’s soft lips and tasting him fully. His mouth made its way to Rick’s ear. “You bet it is, darlin'.”

Rick shivered under him, and Negan continued trailing worshipful kisses down Rick’s body, down the line of his throat, across to mouth over his strong biceps, back to his chest to lavish attention on the sensitive pink nubs of his nipples. Rick’s hands stroked over his shoulders as he played them into stiffness, rolling one between his fingers while he opened his mouth around the other. When he pulled back, Rick was flushed all the way down his chest, nipples wet and hard from Negan’s attention. He nipped and kissed his way down the flat plane of Rick’s belly, chuckling when Rick’s swollen cock bumped his chin and Rick’s hips jerked up, searching for that friction again.

He whined when Negan bypassed his dick altogether, turning his attention on Rick’s thighs instead. He spread them apart, Rick’s heels sliding against gray silk, and admired the sight of Rick, vulnerable and open before him. All of a sudden, seeing Rick so willing for him, Negan felt the desirous need to mark him, leave him with something to remember him by. He dove between Rick’s spread legs, nuzzling between them gently before his grip became possessive, mouth moving to suck dark bruises onto the innermost parts of Rick’s thighs. Delight sparked in him when he heard Rick gasp at the sudden roughness, and he smirked as he bit kisses into the sensitive skin there.

_ That’s right, Rick. Gonna mark you right up. Make it so that you feel me every time you walk, feel me up between your legs. Make it so that I’m on you even after you’re back in your cute little house with the people you love. Hope you wake up in the morning and see me on you in the mirror and think about how I made you feel. _

Negan’s mouth found the delicate flesh between Rick’s legs, tongue working gently against his balls and feeling the way it made Rick squirm above him, hips rising off the bed. Negan’s hands circled the smaller man’s waist, holding him down. “Be patient, baby. I’ll give you what you want. I promise.”

And he did a moment later before Rick could so much as plead, tongue drawing up the silky length of Rick’s cock, lapping up the wetness at the tip before closing his lips around the head. Rick shuddered, gasping, his hands threading into Negan’s hair. “Oh, baby. Oh, Negan,  _ please _ -” He let out a sobbing noise when Negan pulled off of him, his blue eyes looking utterly betrayed as Negan crawled back up his body and pressed a chaste, teasing kiss to his lips. “Negan, I need it, please, I-” his begging was silenced as soon as he heard the crack of a bottle top opening, and within seconds, Negan was back between his legs, urging him to lift his hips until his thighs were cradling Negan’s head.

The needy, wrecked noise Rick made when Negan swallowed him down to the base and slid the first wet finger into him was  _ delicious _ , stoking the devouring flame in Negan’s chest. He worked him slowly, patiently, sliding his tongue down Rick’s thick length as he added a second finger, scissoring and working him open while Rick tugged urgently at his hair. Negan could feel the way Rick’s thighs clenched around him every time he thrust into that sensitive spot inside him, and he chanced a glance up at his lover. If his mouth hadn’t been full of Rick’s cock, he would have licked his lips at the sight of Rick flushed and undone, head thrown back so that his throat was beautifully exposed. His chest was heaving, Negan relentlessly pumping his fingers into him, and it wasn’t long before Rick’s voice broke through, trembling and hoarse.

“N-Negan, I’m- you’ve gotta stop, I’m gonna come, baby. I’m-  _ ah _ -!” Rick’s release flooded Negan’s mouth and he swallowed it down eagerly, fingers still working patiently inside him. Rick’s whole body was tense as a bowstring wrapped around him, and Negan only eased back when he felt Rick gently pushing his head away from his softening cock. “ _ Negan _ , please, it’s too much, baby.”

Negan kissed a sweet line up Rick’s belly and chest, settling so that their hips were flush together and he could reach Rick’s mouth again. That was something he’d learned in his time with Rick- the man craved affection after he came, be it lips on his own or hands caressing his sweat-dampened curls or gentle words whispered in his ear, sweet nothings of  _ so good for me, baby. _

Negan gave him all of that tonight, unable to get enough, unable to give enough. He wanted it all, wanted everything Rick was willing to give him. He pressed the abandoned bottle of lube into Rick’s hands, mouthing at his throat as he did. “Touch me, baby. Please. Fucking touch me.”

Rick’s hand on him was warm and slick and perfect, coating him slowly. He lifted Rick’s trembling legs, hauling them up so that they wrapped his waist as he breached him. Rick gasped, fingertips digging into Negan’s shoulders, and Negan slid his arms beneath Rick’s body, curling them around his shoulders and holding him close so that Rick’s forehead bumped his collarbone.

Negan didn’t think he’d ever be able to forget how Rick felt wrapped around him- tight and slick and so warm, his calves sliding over Negan’s, hips rising up and rolling down to take Negan’s cock deeper. He moved deeply, slowly, taking his time to work Rick into hardness all over again until the man was moaning low and soft in his throat and rutting mindlessly into his smooth thrusts.

For once, Negan felt he couldn’t speak. He could taste the words resting dangerously on the tip of his tongue, and he had to work to reign himself in, hold them back.

He thought them, though. Over and over as he pumped into Rick.

_ I love you _ , he thought as he watched Rick’s lips fall open on each inward push, forcing hungry sounds out of him.

_ I love you _ , as Rick’s thighs clenched around his waist, his cock reawakened and rubbing up against the muscle of Negan’s belly.

_ I love you _ , as Rick pleaded, completely ruined beneath him.

“Oh,  _ Christ _ , oh god Negan, right there, baby, right fucking there, that’s it, I’m-  _ oh _ -”

Rick buried his burning face in the crook of Negan’s neck, panting wetly and whining as he was fucked mercilessly. “Negan, I- oh, fuck,  _ I can’t _ , it’s-” he broke off in a helpless cry as Negan’s hand wrapped around his leaking dick.

Negan grinned against Rick’s skin, nipping at his neck and finally finding his words. “That’s right, darlin’. It’s good, isn’t it? Y- _ yeah _ , oh  _ fuck _ ,” he groaned, “I know it is. Tell me, Rick. Tell me how you’re feelin’.”

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Rick moaned, “so good, Negan. S-so good, you’re-  _ ah _ !” Rick yelped at a particularly rough thrust, and Negan felt nails dig into the soft flesh of his back.

“You gonna fuckin’ come for me, Rick? You gonna come again?” He wanted him to- he was so close to the edge himself, barely restrained as Rick’s heat clenched around his aching cock.

Rick opened his mouth, presumably to answer him, but his words came out in a choked wail as Negan drove relentlessly into him, every muscle pulling tight as Negan pushed him over the edge, warm wetness spilling between their bodies.

Rick’s eyes were hazy, his body limp and spent from the intensity of his orgasm, and he made the most deliciously wanton noises as Negan continued to fuck into him. His hands wandered, gripping Negan’s hips, his ass, his thighs, pulling them closer like he still couldn’t get enough. “Come inside me Negan, c’mon,” he breathed, and Negan was helpless to do anything but obey his command, the pleasure wholly overtaking him, shaking him apart into a mess above Rick. He clung to Rick almost desperately as he came, flooding him with heat and biting rough kisses into the tender skin of his neck, marking him up. His vision blurred, and he squeezed his eyes shut, burying his face into the shadow of Rick’s neck, feeling weak with the pleasure of it.

The first thing he was aware of when the hazy fog lifted were Rick’s hands on him, touching him tenderly, like he was delicate. He drew himself up and out, still lying mostly atop Rick’s heated body. He liked it here, pressed warm and sticky together in the afterglow of what they’d done, Rick’s blue eyes sparkling up at him.

He was beautiful, and Negan was so incredibly  _ weak _ for him.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he whispered almost shamefully, cupping Rick’s face with one strong hand. “I’m gonna miss you so fucking much, Rick.”

The sound of Rick’s soft laughter sent a shock through him, and hurt welled up an instant later. Rick was looking at him like- like he didn’t fucking know what. He looked nearly confused, and Negan’s mouth twisted into a scowl. “Something fucking funny about that, Rick?”

Rick shook his head. “You’re awful sentimental, you know that, Negan? What, you can’t be away from me for a few days?”

Negan blinked, his face reflecting the confusion on Rick’s.  _ A few days…?"  _ What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You’re talkin’ like you’re not gonna come to visit me.” His smile suddenly dropped, worry clouding his expression. “Are you…you are gonna come visit me, right?”

“You’d want me to? I thought that- fuck-”

“Negan,” Rick chastised, “you really are the stupidest person still alive. Did you really think that after all this I was- what, gonna leave you just like that?” Negan’s expression must have said it all, because Rick laughed again. “You’re an idiot, Negan.”

Negan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You fucking mean it, Rick? You want me to come pay you a visit in suburbia? Maybe fuck you real nice in one of those cozy little houses-”

Rick shoved at his arm, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah. You’re not the only one who got attached.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! So a bit late, sorry, classes started back up and I ended up getting this chapter done wayyy later than expected. Also, I've been so terrible about replying to comments but just know that I've read and appreciate every one of them so, so much! Also a huge thank you to Renchaos for beta-ing, as always!


	13. Chapter 13

It was harder for Rick to leave Negan and return home to Alexandria than he thought it would be. It wasn’t even that he needed to be around Negan, though he knew that he would miss the man’s company, as obnoxious as he could be at times. It was the uncertainty about everything regarding his old life that had him on pins and needles. He hadn’t been able to speak to Carl since the boy had found out about his affair with Negan, he still hadn’t talked to Michonne one-on-one, and knowing that he would be returning home to people like Spencer who regarded him with open contempt made him wary.

Carl was his first priority, though. He feared that the longer they went without addressing the issue, the more damaged their relationship would become.

Negan drove him to Alexandria as a show of good faith, a gesture to prove that he was willing to be reasonable. Thankfully, he’d caught on pretty quickly that Rick was too caught up in his own thoughts to carry a conversation, and had lapsed into silence as they drove.

“I’m not gonna come in or anything. Not that I’m- fuck, do I need to be invited in now? Shit.” Negan muttered as they parked and stepped out of the car, waiting for the guard up front to open the gate. “Anyway. I’m uh. I’m gonna fucking miss having you in my bed every night, blue eyes.”

Rick shook his head fondly, sidling up into Negan’s space and winding an arm around the taller man’s waist. “Not gonna get all teary-eyed on me, are you Negan?”

“Fuck you, Rick,” Negan grinned, tongue sliding between his teeth as his gaze fell to Rick’s mouth. “One for the road?”

Rick could hear the gate being opened behind them, the creaking drag of metal on metal. He wasn’t sure who was on guard, if it even mattered. Maybe everyone here was just as disgusted with him as Spencer and Maggie.

He didn’t care. This would be the longest he’d be away from Negan since they’d met, and the thought of going even a week without kissing him, without touching him, sparked a lonely ache in his chest.

_ Fuck it. If they’re pissed, they’re pissed. Not like everyone doesn’t already know. _

He drew Negan down to him with a guiding hand on the nape of his neck, and he took some pride in the pleased hum it drew out of the man. Their lips moved together, the kiss lingering longer than Rick had intended, but he didn’t mind in the least. He pulled Negan closer by his jacket, and when Negan’s tongue slid between his teeth, heat spread over his face and between his thighs.

“Ooh, darlin’,” Negan murmured, dark and insinuating into his ear. “You’re gonna miss me, too. Fuck yeah, you are.” He pressed a surprisingly chaste kiss to the side of Rick’s neck and then laughed deep and rumbling. “Damn, I marked you up  _ real _ fuckin’ nice. If the people here didn’t already know who you’re fuckin’, they  _ definitely  _ will now.”

Rick’s hand flew to his throat, prodding at the tender bruises Negan had sucked there the night before during their lovemaking. “Oh, Christ, I didn’t even think about that-” He swallowed hard, wondering if he could turn his collar up and hide them.

“You ashamed of me or somethin’, Rick?” Negan teased.

“No,” Rick said quietly, “I just…I’m gonna have to talk to Carl. He’s already so put out with me, and if he sees…” He shook his head.  _ Should have told him not to. Should have thought about that last night. I wasn’t even thinkin’ about that.  _

Negan frowned, looking a tad remorseful. “Shit. Alright. Uh- fuck. How about this? I mean…it’s still fucking  _ mine _ , and he’ll know it, but it’s better than seeing  _ that _ shit on his daddy’s neck, right?” Negan unwound the red scarf he wore from around his neck and held it out, an apology.

Negan was right- it was barely better than the hickies, and either way Rick was bound to get an earful. But it was sweet, Negan’s attempt to help. He felt that it was very much in the spirit of Negan himself- misguided and only clumsily helpful, but  _ trying _ .

And that was the thing- so much of the way Negan tried to fix things was too little, too late. It was in his nature, it seemed, to only realize the gravity of his mistakes after the fact. Fucked up, but well-intentioned.

Rick smiled up at him and accepted the scarf, letting Negan wrap it snugly around his neck and inhaling the warm scent.

That was another perk of the scarf- it was a part of Negan. Rick liked the idea of having a piece of him close by. “Thank you,” he said, fingering over the soft fabric.

Negan’s gaze was gentle, and more than a little sad. He swayed forward again, pressing a kiss to Rick’s forehead before pulling away. “Looks damn good on you, baby. I really fucking like you in my clothes.”

“You coming in or not?” An impatient voice behind them called- Rostia. Rick stole one last parting glance at Negan before turning away, stepping inside and closing the gate behind him.

Rosita regarded him with contempt, her jaw clenched tight. “That’s really something you’re gonna keep doing?  _ Him _ ?” Rick bristled. “I wanted to believe that you were just using him to help us win. I could have understood that. But  _ this _ ?” She shook her head. “That’s fucked up, Rick. It was fucked up enough before, fucked up enough that you let him  _ live _ . After Glenn. After  _ Abraham _ .”

There was still so much pain in her voice when she said his name, and Rick positively ached for her. “Rosita-”

“No.” She cut him off, pointing him away, and even as she said it Rick caught the waver of grief in her tone. “Go.  _ Please _ . I don’t want to hear it, and I’m sure you’ve got a lot of other people who need to hear whatever the hell excuse you have for still fucking that  _ cabrón .” _

That was the first blow, stinging but not shocking. Regardless, it still left him hurting, that fear that he’d permanently fragmented his relationships with the people he loved like a family taking over once again. He wanted desperately to apologize- to make things right with her somehow, but he knew that there was only one thing he could do right now to have her look on him favorably again, and he wasn’t willing to do it. 

The second blow came as soon as Rick walked through the front door of his house. Carl was at the kitchen table with Michonne, the two of them poring over a long unrolled sheet of paper that looked to be a map of Alexandria. Carl’s head jerked up, he took one look at Rick and his face soured like curdled milk, eye narrowing. He made an annoyed sound, like Rick’s presence was an inconvenience to him, and moved to leave the table, but Michonne moved faster, blocking his path.

“Let me go. I don’t want to be here right now. You don’t need me for this, anyway. Not really.”

Michonne placed a hand on Carl’s shoulder, frowning. “I do, actually. That’s why we’re doing it together. And you  _ need _ to be here right now. You two need to have a nice, long talk. No more bullshit.”

Carl’s scowl deepened, but he didn’t try to make a break for the door when Michonne moved out of the way and stepped toward Rick. She turned to him, her smile gentle, and for a moment Rick just stood there, torn on what to do, how to greet her.

Michonne was never one to linger over things like that. Reached out and pulled him straight into her arms, hugging him tightly, and Rick nearly lost his breath at the affection. He clung to her tightly for a moment, missing this- being so close to the people here, the way he’d shared intimacy like this casually and comfortably with them.

It was different with Michonne, of course. There was so much more between them that they still had yet to discuss, but for now, he still had this. She didn’t hate him, not for agreeing to the three days with Negan, not for any of it, and the knowledge nearly brought him to his knees with relief.

“We’ve missed you so much, Rick. All of us. Even if everyone doesn’t show it at first.” She pulled away, her dark eyes deep and honest. She tipped her head toward Carl. “I’ll let you two have some time to talk. You need it. You and I…we can talk later.”

And then she was gone, and it was just him and Carl, the boy pointedly avoiding Rick’s gaze.

Rick took a step forward, one hand resting on the back of a chair. “Carl, I-”

“That’s  _ his _ , isn’t it?” Glaring at the scarf around Rick’s neck like it had personally insulted him.

Rick sighed, sinking into the chair. “Yes.”

“So…what? Even though you’re back here you’re still fucking him?” He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Watch your mouth,” Rick snapped reflexively. He knew it was petty, focusing on things as small as language when Carl likely saw his authority as compromised, but he didn’t like the sound of it coming from his son.

“Are you serious?” Carl snapped back.

“Yeah, I am. I understand that you’re upset, Carl. I get it, and I’m not sayin’ you don’t have the right. But nothing that’s happened changes that I’m your father. I don’t want you talkin’ like that.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem when  _ Negan _ does it,” Carl retorted, crossing his arms.

_ “ Negan _ is a grown man. You’re my son. And I’m sitting down here to have a civil conversation with you about this, because you deserve that. I’m askin’ you to be respectful, whether you think I deserve it or not.”

With what looked to be great difficulty, Carl lowered himself into the chair opposite Rick, looking him in the eye. “Why?”

Rick grasped for a moment for an explanation that wasn’t  _ Negan’s attractive and I wanted to have sex with him _ . “I…because I spent a lot of time with him while I was there. I got to know him, started to understand how his brain works. I’m not sayin’ he’s a good man. It’s hard to find a good man left in this world. He went down a different path than we did, and he’s done things I can never forget, never completely forgive. But he wants to change. I really believe that. I wouldn’t be askin’ people to give him a chance if I didn’t. The way he did things- he really thought he was doing what was best for people.”

Carl scoffed. “I bet he did.”

“Doesn’t mean it was right. Not even a little. He wasn’t treatin’ people like  _ people _ there. But he’s changin’ that now.”

“What if he doesn’t? What if, now that you’re gone, he just goes back to how things were before?”

“He’s not going to do that.”

“But what if he  _ does _ ?” Carl insisted, arms crossing over his chest.

“Then we’ll have to renegotiate the terms of surrender. If he’s not cooperating, we’ll do what Maggie suggested and put him in the cell Morgan built.”

“What if he tries to hurt us? What if he hurts someone else? What if you’re all wrong about him and he hasn’t changed at all?”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to the people here. I’m not, Carl.” He knew the answer that Carl was looking for- it was written all over his face, almost desperately, like he needed to know where Rick’s loyalties truly laid. “If it came down to it, if I had to, if it was a choice between him and any of you, I would kill him. I would. I’m not gonna tell you I would like it, because I wouldn’t. But my family comes first. _You_ come first.”

Carl looked like he was fighting a reaction to Rick’s words and losing- Rick caught a glimmer of relief on his face, some satisfaction. It hurt to know that it was even a question that needed to be addressed. “Carl, you can’t really think that I’d choose him over any of you. He and I, we…we’re something. But you can’t think that I’d choose a man I’ve only known a few months over any of you.”

Carl looked down at his lap, hair falling across his face. “No. No, I know you wouldn’t. I know that. I just…” He swallowed hard. “It was hard, hearing that you…that you and he were…it was hard hearing it, and it was worse that I had to hear it from Spencer, in front of everyone. I know that you wouldn’t choose him over us. It’s just…I needed to hear it, I guess.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself,” Rick said quietly. “I, ah. I didn’t really know how to say it.”

At that, Carl almost smiled. “Yeah. Guess so.” He glanced up, eye catching on the scarf again. “Uh. So are you two still…together?”

Rick fought the urge to reach up and fiddle with the scarf. “Yeah. We are.”

“So does that mean that you…” Carl looked uncomfortable, and Rick shared the sentiment. “What the hell does that even mean? You’re… _ dating _ him? Are you still married?”

“I…” Rick raked his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t actually thought about it. “I don’t know. I wouldn’t call what we’re doin’  _ dating _ .”

“Oh my god,  _ gross _ -”

“No!” Rick yelped, horrified. “I mean- we’re- I don’t think that… _ dating _ …really applies. It’s a unique situation. It’s not like I would have said that Michonne and I were dating, either. We’re just…together.”

Carl still looked slightly green from the previous implication about Rick’s sex life. “So what about Michonne?”

What about Michonne, indeed.

“I- I don’t know, Carl. We haven’t gotten the chance to really talk about all this yet, since everything ended.” He feared what the conversation would hold- he couldn’t see Michonne standing by while he saw this thing with Negan through.

Carl seemed to accept this, nodding slowly. “Okay. Can you…tell me when you do talk to her? So I know what’s going on?”

“Of course,” Rick replied. “I’m sorry I tried to keep you in the dark about all this, Carl. You deserve to know what’s goin’ on.” Awkwardly, he scrubbed a hand over his stubbly jaw. “Do you, ah. Do you have any other questions about…anything?”

“No,” Carl said, rising out of his chair. Rick followed suit, glad to have the conversation over with and even more glad that Carl was finally speaking to him again. “Just…I never knew that you…liked guys.”

Rick chuckled. “Guess I just thought for the longest time that it wasn’t important. Since I was with your mom, and then Michonne…I figured I’d just tell you if I ever needed to.”

“I don’t have a problem with it or anything,” Carl said. “Except that…you have really bad taste in guys.”

Rick half-laughed into the sigh. “Maybe. He’s…he’s tryin’ though Carl. I know it doesn’t look like a lot right now to everyone here, to you, but he is. He’s good to me, and I know that there’s a good man in him somewhere. I can see it sometimes, in the things he says, the things he does. It’s just that that good man got locked up inside him a long time ago. But he’s still in there.”

Carl tilted his head at him, and he looked so much like Rick himself that it almost made him laugh again. “Do you love him?”

Rick froze, his mind suddenly blank.  _ Did he love Negan? _ “I…I don’t know, Carl. I think I could, though.”

Carl let it drop, but Rick’s mind carried on with the question.  _ I think I could… _

Rick thought that maybe he already did.

* * *

Rick spent the evening at home, so happy just to be back in his own house again. As much as he’d gotten used to the Sanctuary- and Negan’s room had been nothing if not luxuriously comfortable- he’d missed the steady comfort of his Alexandria home. He liked the way Michonne hung her katana over the mantle when she wasn’t using it, how there was a tumbled pile of blocks in the living room that Judith played with, how cozy it was to have his own kitchen. He’d never been much of a chef, and Carl and Michonne had immediately struck down his offer to cook for them tonight, but he liked being here, Judith toddling around underfoot and all but clinging to his leg as he helped Carl monitor the pans on the stove.

“I haven’t been around to see everyone yet,” Rick said, watching with a streak of fatherly pride as Carl cooked the deer meat that Michonne had brought them for dinner. “Is Carol still here? And Morgan? Or did they go back to the Kingdom?”

“They went back. I guess Carol and Ezekiel have gotten close, and Morgan’s been teaching some people there about the stuff he does with his staff-  _ Aikido _ ? And he’s made some friends there. Daryl’s been splitting his time between places already. Some time here, some time at the Kingdom to see Carol, and he goes to the Hilltop, too.” There was a note of sadness in Carl’s voice, and it only took Rick a moment to realize why- their group had fragmented. Maggie, Sasha, and Enid were at the Hilltop, Carol and Morgan at the Kingdom, Daryl wandering between, and Rick- Rick had been off at the Sanctuary for months.

“Aaron left, too,” Michonne added as she walked in. “After Eric was killed, he wasn’t doing so well. Maggie told him he was more than welcome to come back to the Hilltop, get away from here for a while. Change of scenery. He left with them.”

Rick’s stomach clenched, realizing that he had one more grieving friend to try to make amends with. The past couple days had been such a whirlwind of business and planning and trying to get the Sanctuary in working order that he hadn’t even remembered that Eric had been one of the casualties of the attack at the Sanctuary.

“I need to go to the Hilltop. I need to talk to him. To Maggie and Sasha, make sure they’re alright.”

Michonne bit her lip, looking unsure. “I don’t think that’s a good idea right now, Rick. I think what they all need right now is a little space to grieve. I know your intentions are good, but Aaron  _ just _ lost Eric. Maggie and Sasha have been grieving for months, but that’s not the kind of pain that fades away so quickly. Especially now, knowing that Negan is…that he’s essentially walking free-” Rick dropped his eyes, guilt eating away at him from the inside out. “It would be better if you didn’t go right now.”

“I need to do something- let them know that I care, at least. I haven’t even  _ seen _ Aaron-”

“When Daryl makes his next trip to the Hilltop, I’ll have him send the message along. And we’re going to see Maggie soon, anyway. For the meeting at the Sanctuary.”

“Right,” Rick murmured, stooping to scoop Judith up into his arms. He hated the idea of his friends thinking he didn’t care enough to come see them- or that he was avoiding them out of some sense of fear or shame.

Michonne squeezed his shoulder, looking sympathetic. “They know you care, Rick. They’re hurting, but they know. They just need some time.” She turned to Carl, taking a deep whiff of the warm, spicy scent rising from the stovetop. “This smells great, Carl. You’ve come a long way from the days of gagging about my soy milk.”

* * *

They ate together at the kitchen table, the first family dinner Rick had enjoyed in a long time. Rick said a secret prayer of thanks that Carl hadn’t inherited his or Lori’s kitchen woes- the food was delicious, and Carl had looked shyly pleased when Rick told him as much.

The sad, worried look from their earlier conversation was still stuck in the back of Rick’s mind when Carl headed off to bed for the night, and he caught him on the way up the stairs.

“Carl. About earlier- everyone leavin’, goin’ off to different places. I just want you to know that I’m not goin’ anywhere. Not anymore. I don’t want you to think that I’d leave you on your own here if I didn’t have to.”

“I’m not  _ on my own _ , Dad. I’ve got Michonne. And Rosita and Tara are still here. Gabriel. Daryl’s here sometimes, he’ll probably stay more now that you’re back. I’m fine.” His bravado was thin- Rick could see the relief beneath the boy’s unworried exterior.

“Well,” Rick murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of his son’s head. “I just wanted you to know. In case you thought that I would…in case you were worried I wouldn’t be around a lot. I will be. This is my home, Carl. You and Judith are my home. I missed you both so much, and nothing’s gonna make me leave you two again.”

Carl ducked his head, but Rick caught the small smile there. “Thanks, dad. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Carl.” Rick watched his son ascend the stairs, heart swelling in his chest. It had been so long since he’d been able to do something as simple as tell his son goodnight.

“He missed you a lot,” Michonne’s voice sounded from behind Rick, and he turned to face her. “I know it seems like he’s been pissed at you. And he  _ has _ , don’t get me wrong. But Spencer’s been…well, Spencer’s been pretty vocal about how he feels about your relationship with Negan.” Rick winced. “Carl always shuts him down. Yells at him to stop talking about you. Granted, he uses some colorful language that I don’t think you’d approve of…but it’s not like he stopped caring about you.”

The surge of gratitude and affection for his son arrested Rick for a moment. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had been endlessly worried about how deeply his relationship with Carl had been scarred by his liaison with Negan. Knowing that Carl had been here, defending him even when he hadn’t agreed with him, filled him with pride and relief.

“Thank you. For telling me. That’s nice to hear.” He fiddled with his wedding ring for a moment- he’d taken it off after he and Michonne had gotten together, finally allowing it to rest on the top of his dresser, unworn. He’d snatched it up at the last second the night before he’d been taken to the Sanctuary for the first time, like the ring would ward off the man, keep the marriage from truly meaning anything. Now, so deeply entangled with Negan as he was, it felt wrong to have it on his finger. “Can we…talk now?”

Michonne nodded, gesturing for them to sit on the couch. Rick sat across from her, noting the distance she kept between them. It ached just a little to have that space separating them, especially when he could still so vividly remember what he’d felt like sitting on this couch next to her, kissing her for the first time. He was sure that she was all too aware of their history there as well.

“So,” she inclined her head. “Ask.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were going to attack the Sanctuary?” The question came out in a rush, the words tripping over each other in their desperation. “I was  _ here _ . I was right here, just hours before you got there- I could have helped, I could have done something, and nobody,  _ not one person  _ bothered to tell me.” Michonne was silent, waiting for the inevitable ending to his question. “Did you…did you not trust me?”

“That’s not it, Rick. It’s not, I swear.”

“But you knew. You had to have already known that you were going to attack that night.”

“We did.”

“So why? Why keep me in the dark? Did you think that I- that I wouldn’t back you up? That I’d talk you out of it?”

“Would you have?” Rick balked. “No, listen to me, Rick. Really think about it. Would you? You told us outright that you didn’t want to kill Negan. You didn’t agree to our terms. And that worked out for you in the end, but then? We had no reason to believe that he would come quietly, be reasonable.”

“Maybe if you’d told me, I could have talked to him sooner. Made the offer of a peace treaty sooner. Nobody would have died.”

“Maybe,” Michonne agreed. “Or maybe he would have laughed you off. Maybe the only reason he agreed to any of this was because we showed him, in his own territory, that we were prepared to fight him. Do you think he’d have been so quick to agree to your plan if he hadn’t already seen what we could do? If he hadn’t already lost something?”

“I don’t know,” Rick admitted. “I don’t. So that’s it, then? You thought I’d try to talk you out of it?”

“I know you would’ve sided with us in the end, Rick,” Michonne replied. “I don’t doubt that for a minute. I fully believe that if we’d told you that we were attacking, you would have gone with us. But you didn’t have to. I knew that you wouldn’t want to be in the middle of it, opposing him. I knew that him seeing you out there, standing with us, would give us even less of a chance of reasoning with him. I didn’t like it, but I let you go. It wasn’t a decision we made lightly, and it wasn’t because we didn’t trust you.”

Well, that was a relief, at least, but he’d be lying if he said that a part of him didn’t balk at being kept in the dark. “I’m not used to this. Not bein’ in charge, not knowing what’s going on. Not with the people here, at least. I’m glad that you’re the one leadin’ them, though. Can’t think of anyone better to do it.” He meant it, too- even back when he’d been the one to lay down the law with people, Michonne had always been there, keeping his head on straight. She’d been the one to reel him back in when he’d lost his way so many times, and it made him feel safe knowing that she was the one taking care of things here.

She smiled, soft and sad. “I want to lead together, Rick. You and me.” Her eyes grazed over the scarf still wound around his throat, and Rick felt suddenly shamed.

“Michonne, I-”

“You’re still with him, aren’t you?” She asked, and he closed his mouth, wordless. “What he and I did the other day, trying to fight for your time- that was wrong of us. We should have asked you what you wanted to do first, not offered it up after we’d worked it out for ourselves. I don’t hold it against you, staying with him then. Once I had a chance to think about it, it made me feel better. I don’t trust him, but you do. The only thing I can trust him with is not to hurt you, and it made me rest better knowing we had someone there that I could trust completely to make sure he followed through on what he promised. But we treated you like a possession, and we shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“I…appreciate that. You don’t need to apologize. I get it. You wanted me back here, you wanted me to have the option to come home. Negan knows he was bein’ selfish, asking me to stay. I know he was, too. I’m not excusing it. He apologized to me. He thought that I was…that we wouldn’t be seein’ each other anymore after that.”

“He was wrong, then.” Michonne said, and self-reproach gripped Rick.

“I…yeah. I don’t…” What could he say?  _ I’m sorry I’m still sleeping with him even though I can come home? I’m sorry that I keep hurting you like this, making things harder on you? _

Michonne didn’t look surprised, and Rick wasn’t sure if he should be insulted by that or not. “I had a feeling that would be the case.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, immediately cringing at how pathetically small the apology was in the face of all he’d done.

“Yeah…” She closed her eyes for a moment, then rose off the couch. “I don’t want to do this on your first night back, Rick. I just…I had to ask. We can talk about this later. Tomorrow. I need to think, if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” Rick stood, suddenly unsure of where to go. Had Michonne take over their old bedroom? If she had, he certainly didn’t want to have her move out. He’d take the downstairs bedroom.

As if reading his mind, Michonne spoke. “Sleep in your room, Rick. It’s yours.” She disappeared down the hallway before he could protest.

He discovered why when he got upstairs. In the short time that he and Michonne had been together, she’d moved a number of things into their room- shirts tucked away in the closet, a painting of lions that she’d found out on a run that hung proudly above the dresser, a couple of comics that she shared with Carl on the bedside table.

All of those things were gone, he realized. He meticulously checked every drawer, just to be sure- her clothes were gone, the nightstand was bare, and the only sign of the lion painting was a small hole in the wall where it had hung on a nail.

The bed was neatly made, looking untouched. Rick wondered sadly how long it had been since she’d slept there. Had she moved out immediately after he’d left, not wanting to sleep alone in the bed they’d shared, or had it been when he’d told her about what he’d done with Negan?

Either way, she was gone. As Rick laid alone in his bed, he missed both her and Negan more than he felt he had the right to. The ring on his finger felt molten, burning against his skin, no longer a reminder of the simpler life he had once lived. _Lori's gone. She's been gone a long time. You should have left it in the box- stop using it as a damn security blanket. Nothing's simple anymore._

He didn't sleep any easier when he slid the ring off and tucked it safely away in a small box in his top dresser drawer, but like the last time he'd taken it off, it felt right. The ring was now where it belonged- beside Lori's own, meant to be a happy memory instead of a sad reminder of days gone by. 

* * *

Michonne was already gone when Rick came downstairs the next morning- he slept longer than he’d intended, having forgotten to set the alarm on his watch. He was too used to relying on Negan’s schedule to rouse him in the mornings.

“She’s out hunting with Rosita. Said she’d be back later this afternoon,” Carl said over breakfast. He pushed a rolled-up scroll of paper across the table at Rick. “She said to tell you to look over this.”

Rick swallowed down his last mouthful of cereal and unrolled it, cocking his head. They looked to be rough plans for a greenhouse. “When’s she wantin’ to build this?”

“We were talking about it yesterday when you came in. She wants to get it started now, so that we can start planting things through the winter. Keep the farming going, I guess. She said she wants to know what kind of plants you think we should be focusing on, and…if the Saviors would have some of the materials to build it.”

Rick glanced down at the plans again, checking the scribbled supply list in the right margin: steel, glass, concrete. He wondered how much of this the Saviors had to trade- they’d been fixing up the windows that had been shot out during the attack when Rick had left.

The plans put him in an oddly good mood, though. It was like he’d said: a new beginning, rebuilding and expanding and  _ living _ . And that Michonne had already begun incorporating the Saviors tentatively in those plans made Rick feel lighter- she had at least a little faith that Rick’s plan would work.

* * *

Rick spent the day reacquainting himself with Alexandria and catching up with the people who would still look at him without disgust in their eyes. He spent a peaceful couple of hours in Gabriel’s church, making easy conversation while Rick helped him patch a leak in the roof.

“You were right, what you told me about him,” Rick said on his way out the door. “When you said that I could make a difference because he cared about me. I don’t think he would have listened to me otherwise. Not so soon. I like to think he would have, but…I just don’t know.”

“Love has a way of making us see things differently, making us open to things that we wouldn’t have been before. It can make us blind in some ways, but it can open our eyes in others,” Gabriel replied sagely.

There was that word again-  _ love _ .

Rick nudged the thought aside, deciding to focus on his relief that Gabriel didn’t seem disgusted by his affair with Negan.

He bumped into Tara on the walk back home, and while Rick had fully expected her to be in Rosita’s corner, she seemed less sure about her anger.

“It’s good to have you back, Rick. Don’t let pricks like Spencer get you down, alright? If it wasn’t this, it’d be something else with him.”

“Yeah,” Rick agreed.  _ Seems about right. _

“Anyway. I, uh. I just wanted to let you know that I don’t agree with…all that. You saved all our asses, Rick. If you banging Negan meant that we didn’t have to go to war, then I don’t know what he’s complaining about. Way to save Alexandria with your dick, dude.”

Rick choked, half-embarrassed and half-laughing, his face burning. Tara looked more than a little awkward herself, like she was second-guessing her word choice altogether. He appreciated it, though- someone willing to make light of it.

“I mean- don’t get me wrong, I think he’s a fucking dick. You’ve got shitty taste in men, man.” She sounded a little haunted, a little sad- Rick remembered how close she was to Glenn and felt guilty all over again, but Tara didn’t let him wallow in it.

“Carl told me the same thing,” he offered, and she managed to find a small smile again.

“I bet he did. Because it’s  _ true _ . Anyway. Welcome to the club, dude.” She held out her fist, waiting for Rick to bump it, but he just stared, confused.

“Club?”

“Yeah. The not-straight club. Didn’t know you were a card-carrying member, so here’s your official welcome. Don’t leave me hanging.”

Rick felt himself smiling as he bumped fists with Tara, waving as she continued down the street. He wondered if it would always be this way- his feelings for Negan tangled in a confusing thread of sadness and guilt and loss. He could never forget what he’d done to Glenn and Abraham. He dreamt about it some nights, about Negan painted in the blinding white of headlights, all black and white and blood-red as he wielded Lucille like a harbinger of death. He saw Abraham standing up a little taller on his knees, looking Negan in the eye, heard Sasha and Rosita quietly sobbing as he was bludgeoned. Rick had worn his blood across his cheek like a badge of shame-  _ you did this _ . Even after he’d gotten back to Alexandria and scrubbed and scrubbed at his skin, he’d still felt it there for days afterword.

He saw Glenn, eye halfway out of his skull, blood pouring down his face. Heard his last garbled words to his pregnant, weeping wife over and over again:  _ Maggie, I’ll find you. _

Glenn, who had saved him, right at the start. He owed his life to that man so many times over, and he’d led him straight to his death. And now he was fucking the man who had killed him. Not only that, he cared about that man- had protected him, stuck his neck out for him, kept him alive when he could have easily sentenced him to death.

Rick’s throat felt thick, and he hurried back home, retreating to Judith’s bedroom to hold her close and rock her gently. He shouldn’t be using her as a shield from his guilt and confusion, but he felt shaken by the sudden jarring thoughts of Glenn and Abraham. It had been so long since he’d been home long enough to truly miss their presence in his life, to see what that loss had done to people. His time at the Sanctuary had shielded him from the grief in a way, and now he felt it, sickening and deep in his gut.

And again he thought it, the question tugging fearfully at him:  _ will I ever be able to look at Negan and not see what he did to them? Do I even want to? _

* * *

“It’s not just sex anymore, is it?”

Rick’s head jerked up to see Michonne standing in his doorway. They had shared an only somewhat uncomfortable family dinner, both of them seeming to want to put off the inevitable follow-up to last night’s conversation at least until Judith and Carl were tucked away in their bedrooms for the night. He blinked up at her, a bit startled. “What?”

She sighed, leaning against the doorframe, arms folded. “Come on, Rick. We need to do this. We need to get it out.”

Ashamed, Rick dropped his gaze to the floor. “No.”

“ _ No _ , you’re not going to talk about it, or  _ no _ , it’s not just sex?”

Rick took a deep breath, looking down at his hands in his lap. “No, it’s not just sex.”

“Was it ever?” Her tone wasn’t one of even remote surprise, and Rick wasn’t sure how he felt about that- did that mean she had assumed the worst of him for some time now, or that he was just that bad at masking his feelings?

“I…I don’t know. I don’t think so. Even if it wasn’t…even if it wasn’t  _ good _ , how we felt, how could there not have been something more there? It couldn’t have been just sex with us. Not with…everything around it. If it was just sex…” He trailed off, at a loss for words.

“Then you wouldn’t still be with him,” She finished for him, and he nodded, shame burning in his chest. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to look up at her and face her like she deserved.  _ She deserves more. She deserves your faithfulness, your honesty. _

He hated that he wasn’t sure if he could give both of those things to her anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. “I know that doesn’t even begin to make up for it, but I am.”

“I know. But, Rick. You know…you know that I can’t… _ we _ can’t…” She shook her head heavily. “I’m not going to try to compete with him.”

“It’s not a competition. You make it seem like I’m weighing my options.” And he wasn’t. He simply didn’t know what to do. He thought of the man he’d been with Lori- straightforward, a man of simple pleasures. Their relationship hadn’t been without its flaws, and he hadn’t always been the best husband to her, or she the best wife to him, but they had loved each other, and for a long time, until Shane, until the end, it had been simple. Their problems had been the normal, garden-variety things that popped up in long relationships. But  _ this _ ? He couldn’t fathom how he had become this person, how he had become so relentlessly selfish that he wanted to beg her to stay even while Negan was by his side.

“I know. I know you’re not doing that. But you know I can’t wait around for you, knowing that you…”

“That I’ve been fucking him.”

“That you’re in love with him,” Michonne corrected.

Rick ignored the statement, didn’t want to contemplate what that would mean if it were true. “I love  _ you _ .” That was true- he knew it, and he knew it was a shitty, terrible time to say it. And even worse that he couldn’t say for sure that he loved her the way he should- wholly, without falter or doubt. He had loved her for a long time- as a friend, as a companion, as someone who cared so deeply for his family and for others. His love for her was deep, endless- he just wasn’t sure that it was the kind of love that saw them growing old with their fingers entwined. All he knew was that he wanted her by his side.

She looked at him sadly. “Sometimes that’s not enough.” Rick couldn’t help but feel like she was talking about more than just the two of them. She turned and headed into her room, and a minute later Rick saw her heading for the stairs, bag slung over her shoulder. Panic seized him and he scrambled off the bed and into the hallway.

“Wh-where are you going?”

“I’m moving in with Rosita and Tara. They’ve got a spare room, said I was more than welcome.”

“You…you don’t have to do that. You know you don’t have to do that, Michonne.” She’d been living here just as long as he had. He was loath to drive her away.

“I do, Rick. I really do. For me.” She looked at him, regret in her eyes. “I can’t do this, Rick. I don’t want to. I wish I could say that my mind wasn’t made up when you first told me-” she sighed and shook her head. “I wanted to believe that we could make it work. That things would go back to normal, that you’d move on from him and I’d move on from how I felt knowing that you…you had feelings for someone else. I really did want that. I just…need you to know that.” She reached out, cupping his cheek, her slim fingers stroking the side of his face the way she used to right before she drew him in for a kiss. He knew that nothing like that would follow the touch now.

“Michonne,” he breathed.  _ Please don’t hate me,  _ he wanted to say. _ Not like everyone else does. I can hardly stand it from them, it would kill me to see it from you. _

“Rick,” She said simply, sadly. “I’m on your side. I always was, through all of this. But that doesn’t change this. You want to be with him, for you. I need to go. For  _ me _ .”

And she did, her warm fingers disappearing from Rick’s face as she slipped out the front door and into the night. Rick could still feel the ghost of her hand on him when he crawled alone into his bed later that night, feeling much lonelier than he had in a very long time. He found himself groping on his bedside table until his fingers met soft fabric, knotting Negan’s red scarf in his hands and holding it close, aching a little at the warm, faded scent of Negan still clinging to it. 


	14. Chapter 14

Rick was ashamed to admit that only four days into being back in Alexandria, he was climbing the walls wondering when Negan would drop by to see him. He was realizing now how little they had communicated before parting ways- Negan had assumed so much for those three days, thinking they wouldn’t continue to see each other, and Rick had laughed then.  _ You know what they say when you assume _ , he’d teased him later that evening. But that was exactly what he had done to land him where he was now. He’d assumed that Negan would be the one dropping by to visit him- that’s what he’d offered, after all- but they hadn’t discussed when.

Another more anxious part of Rick wondered if Negan was coming at all. What if Negan had changed his mind? What if, now that Rick was out of sight, he had come to his senses and realized that Rick was the reason that his power, his wives, his empire had been wrenched from his grasp?

He didn’t want to think about that possibility, though. Negan had been so honest in his affection the last time they’d been together, and as arrogant as it seemed, Rick doubted that was the reason the man had yet to drop by. Most likely, he was busy with affairs at the Sanctuary. Or perhaps he, like Rick, was unsure of when exactly he was to pay a visit. A thought skittered across Rick’s mind:  _ I wish there was some way I could just ask him without drivin’ all the way out there _ , and the next moment he was laughing at himself aloud.  _ A phone. You wish you had a damn phone, Grimes. _ The thought was so ridiculous- a couple years of living without, and still the occasional want for things from the old world would creep up on him: take-out from his favorite Chinese place that had been around the corner from the police station, enough Tylenol that he could down a couple pills when he got a headache, a phone so he could call up the ridiculous man he’d gotten used to having in his bed…

It was worse now that Michonne was gone, of course. He had woken the morning after her departure to be met with silent reproach in Carl’s eyes from across the kitchen table when her seat had remained empty throughout breakfast.  _ You made the wrong choice _ , the look said, as if it had been that easy. As if it had just been one choice instead of a series of them made over countless months, leading him straight to where he was now.

Carl had confronted him in the middle of washing dishes, after Olivia had dropped by to take Judith off of Rick’s hands for the day while he worked on the winter garden. “I heard you guys, you know. Last night.” Rick had stiffened, hands stilling beneath the water before turning the tap off, unwilling to waste it.

“I didn’t mean for you to- you weren’t supposed to hear that, Carl. I’m sorry. I was going to tell you after we got done here.” And he was- he’d promised no more secrets between them, and he’d meant it.

Carl looked at him, unconvinced. “You just let her leave.”

“She needed to go, Carl. You heard her. For herself. It would have been selfish of me to ask her to stay”

“The only reason she left is because you were selfish enough to- to fuck Negan!” Carl shouted, his face twisting like it pained him to even get the words out.

“Watch your mouth,” Rick sighed, but his reprimand fell on deaf ears, and Carl was out the door before he could follow it up.

He’d shocked Rick by coming up to him later that evening and apologizing for his outburst, and things had been tense but tentatively healing between them ever since. Between his distance with Carl and Michonne’s absence, Rick felt utterly alone, craving Negan’s all-encompassing brand of affection as each night passed.  _ I’ll give him a week _ , Rick told himself.  _ If he doesn’t show up after a week, then I’ll go see him. _

He didn’t need to wait, it turned out. Three days later, a week after Rick had left the Sanctuary, Negan showed up at Alexandria’s front gates.

“Rick, um- Negan’s out front.” Gabriel was a looming shadow blocking out the heavy sunlight that had been beating down on Rick’s crouched form for less than half an hour. He looked sheepish, uncertain. “I wasn’t sure how he would be received if I were to let him in. He’s waiting in a car just outside the gates. Spencer was right there, so I figured it would be best to come get you first.”

Rick stood and nearly felt dizzy with the churn of emotion inside of him- the shy, timid delight he felt knowing that Negan had kept his word and come to visit him, the fear that allowing him within the walls as a guest would spark even more ill will- or that Negan would have some kind of nasty confrontation with Spencer.

“Thanks for lettin’ me know, Gabriel. I appreciate it.” Rick clapped the man on the shoulder affectionately before the two of them headed for the front gate. Gabriel had been a good friend since Rick had returned home- there wasn’t even remote hostility between them, no awkwardness, and he was surprisingly easy to talk to for a man of the cloth. Rick appreciated Gabriel’s lack of judgment on the subject of Negan, and Gabriel, in turn, seemed to enjoy his company.

“He seemed to be in good spirits. It’s a bit hard to tell with him, he’s always smiling like that…unless he’s not…” Rick chuckled. That was Negan, forever wearing his impassive cat’s grin until something shifted and he bared his teeth like a predator. “He seemed excited to see you, anyway. Eager. And it seemed like he was trying to be polite, at least. Said please.  _ Well _ ,” Gabriel corrected himself, “what he said was pretty please with a bit of vulgarity thrown in, but it seemed genuine enough.”

Rick shook his head, hoping to hide the fondness in his smile. “Yeah, that’s him. I’m glad he’s playin’ nice. He oughta. We’re not here to take shit from him anymore, Gabriel. If he gives you trouble, tell me. I’ll talk to him about it.”

Gabriel smiled beside him. “I appreciate that, Rick. It’s been nice, having you around again.”

“It’s good bein’ back. You’ve been kind to me since I’ve been home, and I appreciate that. It was because of your advice that I even thought to confront Negan peacefully. It made sense, and I needed to hear it. Especially coming from you.”

“Me?” Gabriel sounded surprised.

“Yeah. Enemies can become friends. You taught me that- you and Michonne. The two of you gave me hope that Negan wasn’t too far gone.”

Gabriel seemed pleased at that. “I’m happy to have helped.”

Thankfully, Spencer was still at his post in the guard tower when they approached the gate and Gabriel pulled it open. Negan was lounging against the front hood of a car, small and sleek beneath the layers of grime from going so long without a wash. It seemed just right to Rick- that Negan would pick something showy to drive, even now. He wore an easy grin that spread impossibly wide across his face when he caught sight of Rick. He shoved off the hood, striding forward and sweeping him in close for a hungry kiss that Rick melted into, hands reaching out to grasp at the taller man’s waist. He rumbled a contented sound and Negan echoed it, tugging gently at his hair and licking into his mouth. Rick felt a warm hand slide down his back to cup his ass and give it a squeeze, and he laughed against Negan’s lips, half- amused at his eagerness and half-embarrassed by the immodesty of it all.

The sudden crack of a gunshot made them both jump. Rick’s heart leapt into his throat and his hand instinctively flew to his belt, fingers poised over his holstered gun. Negan, he noticed, had moved fully in front of him, shielding him with his body, dark eyes wide and alert.

Rick glanced over Negan’s shoulder- Spencer was lowering his rifle.

“What the hell was that?” Rick shouted up at him, ducking out from under Negan’s arm. Gabriel still stood at the gate, looking alarmed.

“Thought I saw a walker!” Spencer shouted back easily, and Rick glanced behind him, scanning the area. No walkers, not even stuck on the spikes surrounding the front gate.

“There’s nothin’ out here, Spencer! You don’t need to be shooting off for no reason!” Even from the ground, he could hear the other man muttering something about  _ plenty of fucking reason _ , and his eyes narrowed. “Get down here. Now.”

Spencer must have really been itching to get in his face, because he didn’t even put up a fight, just climbed right down, looming over Rick with a smug look that set his teeth on edge. “I think you need to take a break from the watchtower if you’re seein’ things that aren’t there,” Rick growled, and Spencer glared down at him.

“I’ll take over,” Gabriel offered, stepping up beside him. Spencer gave a derisive snort, shoved the rifle into Gabriel’s hands, and stalked away.

Negan sidled up beside them, sliding an arm around Rick’s waist. “What’s  _ that _ prick’s fucking problem? He jealous or something?” His words were light and teasing, but Rick could see the dangerous look on his face as his eyes followed Spencer’s path.  _ Alright, definitely can’t have him around Spencer anymore. _

“He’s a tremendous shit,” Gabriel said, shocking both men. Rick and Negan exchanged wide-eyed looks before turning to the sheepish-looking priest. There was a moment of quiet surprise before Negan burst into hearty laughter, one hand on Gabriel’s broad shoulder as he clutched at his ribs and wheezed.

“Holy fucking fuck! This fucking guy! I fucking like you…what’s your name?” Negan straightened and wiped tears of mirth from the corner of his eye.

Gabriel looked slightly alarmed at having Negan’s attention turned onto himself. “I- Gabriel. I’m Gabriel.”

“Father Gabe,” Negan intoned. “Goddamn. I like you. You call ‘em like you see ‘em. I can respect that in a person.”

“I- yes. Well. Thank you,” Gabriel stuttered, hands fumbling with the rifle. “I’ll, uh. I’ll be up in the tower. If you need anything.”

Rick chuckled as they watched Gabriel scramble up the ladder. “I think you scared him.”

“Fuck,” Negan muttered, nosing into Rick’s curly hair and pressing light kisses there. “Didn’t mean to. Baby steps, right? That’s what you kept telling me at the Sanctuary.”

“It’s a good thing. You surprised him. By bein’  _ nice _ .” Rick grinned up at Negan, having already predicted the befuddled look on his face. “Chalk it up as a win. You got one person here other than me that doesn’t hate your guts.”

Rick caught the slip of a pleased smile on Negan’s lips before he covered it up. “Good. Fucking good. Glad they’re not all gonna be as bad as that trigger-happy limp dick that threw a fit over a little grab-ass. If it was up to me, I'd have bent you over and fucked you right on the hood of the car, so he should count himself _lucky_ as far as I fucking see it.”

Rick sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Spencer’s not…well, I wouldn’t say anyone’s  _ happy  _ about what’s goin’ on with us. But Spencer’s been a problem since before he found out. He’s one of the ones who’ve been livin’ behind these walls since the beginning. He doesn’t get that this is how the world is now- that people can’t always just be sweet-talked and bribed into doin’ what you want.”

“It worked on me eventually,” Negan countered. “I just needed the right sweet-talker. And some time.”

Rick snorted. “Yeah. Alright. I wouldn’t lead with that if you get into it with him. Actually, you should probably just stay the hell away from him altogether.”

“No fucking problem. Why would I want to be around that prick when I came here to see you?” He nuzzled into Rick’s neck. “Take me to your place, baby. I’ve got a week’s worth of time with you to make up for.”

* * *

“No. No! Get the hell out of here!” Carl was frozen stock-still with a look of horror on his face as Rick and Negan stepped through the front door.

“Carl-“ Rick began, only to be cut off by his son.

“No way, dad! I said I’d try to get used to it, but I didn’t mean  _ here _ . You can’t let him in our house! What about Judith?”

“I’ve already met that little angel,” Negan piped in helpfully. “She fucking loves me.”

Negan noted with some glee that Carl looked about ready to burst a blood vessel at that information.  _ Kid’s too fucking easy to mess with. _

“You let him meet  _ Judith?” _ Carl howled in disgust. Negan could practically hear the grind of his teeth from across the foyer.

“Yes, I did. He’s not a threat to her.” Rick said firmly, standing a little straighter. Negan felt a rush of guilt for taking such delight in Carl’s rage- as much fun at it was to light the kid’s short fuse and watch him explode, Rick was the one having to deal with the fallout. He thought of last week, dropping Rick off at the gate with bruises decorating his neck. “ _ I’m gonna have to talk to Carl. He’s already so put out with me, and if he sees…” _

The memory of the pain and guilt and shame in Rick’s eyes was enough to make Negan swallow his pride alongside the rest of the taunting jabs aimed to get a rise out of Carl.

“If he’s going to be coming here all the time then I’m moving out with Michonne.” Rick’s face twisted in pain and a small, sick part of Negan took some satisfaction in knowing that Rick’s samurai girlfriend now seemed to be out of the picture. He hated himself a little for it- it was petty and small of him, not to mention hypocritical. He’d asked Rick to share back when he’d been in charge- all but told him to build a bridge and get the fuck over it. It was cruel of him to delight in something that was most likely hurting Rick.

“You’re not movin’ out, and he’s not gonna be here all the time.” Negan deflated at that, sadness blooming in his chest. “He will be here, though. He’s a part of the community we’re building. And he’s…” Rick trailed off, at a loss for words.

“I’m his  _ partner _ ,” Negan chimed in, grinning and tipping an imaginary cowboy hat at the teenager glaring daggers at him. “Yeehaw.”

Carl made a disgusted noise in his throat and shoved past him and out the door, muttering something to Rick about going hunting with Michonne.

Rick looked rather exhausted as he slumped against the door after it closed behind him, and Negan moved in close, unwilling to be more than a few inches from the man he’d spent the last week aching to see. “You have no fuckin’ idea how hard it was not to make a  _ ride ‘em cowboy _ joke just now, Rick. It was  _ right _ there.”

Rick had that familiar look of being helplessly torn between annoyance and laughter. “I appreciate your restraint.”

Negan used his fingers to tip the smaller man’s chin up, swooping down and pressing a kiss to the soft lips he’d so desperately missed. “No problem, darlin’. Now how about you show me around this place? I don’t believe I ever got a glimpse of the bedroom.”

He was up the stairs before Rick could so much as blink, riled up and impatient. He hadn’t gone a week without sex since Rick’s initial “honeymoon” period at the Sanctuary, and he was positively dying for it, half hard before he even crossed the threshold of Rick’s impeccably tidy bedroom. It was much like the man himself- clean, straightforward, homey in a sturdy way, with dark wooden furniture and cream-colored sheets that Negan was itching to see Rick tangled up in. He froze at the side of the bed, catching a glimpse of deep red beneath the rumpled cotton. He drew his scarf out, throat suddenly thick. The creak of floorboards behind him indicated that Rick had followed him up, and he turned with the scarf in his hands.

“Rick, were you…were you sleeping with this?” It was the sort of thing that he normally would have teased him about mercilessly, and that’s clearly what Rick was expecting given the way his face flushed a color to rival the fabric in Negan’s hands, but nothing about it struck Negan as funny.

“I- yeah. Might have been,” Rick muttered, hands flitting nervously from his hips to his hair. “Got lonely, I guess. It reminded me of you.”

Negan swallowed thickly around the swell of emotion caught in his throat. “That’s real fucking sweet, darlin’.” He whispered, and he could see the surprise on Rick’s face at the honesty of it. He strode forward and slung the scarf around the back of Rick’s neck, using it to tug him forward and into his arms for a hungry kiss. He could feel the words on the tip of his tongue, threatening to spill over:  _ I love you. _ Instead, he kissed a line down to Rick’s throat, inhaling his scent and pulling him a little closer.

“It was Lucille’s,” he said quietly after a minute, and he felt Rick stiffen in surprise, arms tightening around his back. “From when she lost her hair. Fucking chemo. She had this gorgeous, thick black hair, all wild and curly, and it just about killed her to lose it when it started fallin’ out. Red was always her color, so I got her this. Learned how to tie it for her and shit.”

He didn’t have to question for a second that Rick understood the significance of him lending out the scarf- Rick got it, eyes wide and awed. He drew in close, palm warm against Negan’s stubbled cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered, capturing Negan’s mouth again in a slow kiss that didn’t seem to want to end. Negan let Rick lead the way down onto the bed before taking the reins, crawling atop him and stripping him impatiently, their hands wandering until they were skin on skin. Negan slid his hands beneath Rick’s back, moving down to squeeze his ass before jerking his hips up and wrapping the man’s legs around his waist. He groped at his abandoned jacket, fishing in a zippered pocket for the lube he’d tucked there, but Rick was suddenly twisting to the side and retrieving a small bottle from his bedside table and pressing it into Negan’s empty hands. “Found some on a run a few days ago. Thought I’d…be prepared.” He grinned sheepishly, and Negan dove on him, fingering him open eagerly while Rick dug his heels into the mattress and needily rolled his hips back onto the digits.

“Few days ago, huh?” Negan teased, eyeing the bottle. It was far from empty, but definitely wasn’t as full as a new bottle would have been. “Looks like you’ve been havin’ fun without me, Rick.”

A deep flush spread across Rick’s face, but he wore a cocky, sultry smirk that made Negan want to fuck him senseless. Rick drew him down with a firm hand on the nape of his neck, lips at Negan’s ear. “Been missin’ you. I could feel those bruises you put between my legs whenever I walked.” Negan shuddered, entranced. “I kept touchin’ myself, but it wasn’t the same as this,” Rick purred, reaching down and running his palm along the underside of Negan’s cock, making him keen and moan into Rick’s hair. He pulled his fingers out slowly, slicking himself and letting the head of his cock rub teasingly against Rick’s entrance, chuckling when Rick rolled his hips back to try to take him inside. He slid his hands up Rick’s arms slowly before grabbing his wrists and jerking them down, pinning them to the soft give of the mattress beside Rick’s head.

“Tell me how you did it, baby,” he growled. “C’mon.”

Rick’s pupils were blown wide with lust, struggling slightly against Negan’s hold on him- not enough to dislodge himself, but just enough to test if he was really pinned. When Negan tightened his hold experimentally, Rick practically moaned.  _ You filthy fucker, _ Negan thought wildly,  _ you like it, don’t you? _

“Tell me, Rick.”

“Thought- thought about you on top of me,” Rick keened. “Fucking me like you did that last time. Slid my fingers in and touched myself thinkin’ about you on me. Then I- I thought about the bruises, and you between my legs…pressed on them, thinkin’ about you marking me up.” Negan groaned raggedly into Rick’s neck. “Fuck me Negan,  _ please _ ,” Rick begged, gazing up at him with hazy blue eyes. “I know you missed me just as much.”

“I did, baby,” Negan whispered, and proceeded to show him exactly how much.

* * *

“I wanna do somethin’ with you,” Rick said as they pulled their clothes on, his limbs still weak and shaky. Negan pulled his shirt over his head and grinned at him, tongue between his teeth in that way that made Rick weak.

“Pretty sure we just fucking  _ did somethin’, _ Rick,” he teased. “Unless you wanna  _ do somethin’ _ again.”

Rick snorted, buckling his belt. “Later, maybe. I meant somethin’ else, though.”

“What’d you have in mind, baby?”

“We’re gonna try to build a greenhouse here soon. Have stuff growing through the winter. We need the supplies, though- glass and steel, stuff like that. We were wonderin’ if you had anything like that at the Sanctuary that you’d be willing to trade.”

“Damn,” Negan said. “A greenhouse. That’s a good idea, keep you going ‘til spring. Wish we did have shit like that- we had some glass, but we used it to repair the window that got shot out.” There was no accusation in Negan’s tone, which Rick took as a good sign.

“Where’d you find it?”

“Hardware store. We found it a while back. It’s only an hour or so drive, but we don’t go up there much since we were dumbasses that didn’t think about shit like building and expanding.” Negan scratched at his jaw. “Would probably be worth the trip, if you wanna go. Places like that don’t get picked-over too fast, you know?”

Rick nodded. “Sounds good. We can take a truck, scope the place out. How long’s it been since you were there?”

“Month or so, maybe?” Negan replied. “Like I said, we didn’t go up there often. Not a lot of reason to. We already had the glass from the last time we went up there, so we didn't even bother when the windows got shot out.”

“Alright. You and me, then. If it’s not overrun, we can grab some stuff to get started with, and send more people out to get the rest once we know it’s clear.”

“Sounds like you just want a day with me,” Negan mused, sliding his arms around Rick’s waist and kissing the back of his neck.

Rick leaned back against the firm chest, hands covering the ones on his hips. “Hmm. Maybe,” he hummed, tipping his head to the side to give Negan better access to his neck. “That alright?”

“More than alright, Rick.” Negan gave him a squeeze. “Let’s fucking go, we’re wasting time. I plan on  _ doing somethin’ _ with you when we get back.”

* * *

The drive to the hardware store went by quickly enough since there was a lot to talk about after a week apart. Negan gave Rick every detail of what was going on at the Sanctuary- how Dwight, Simon, and Arat were adjusting to leadership, how implementing a rotating job system and evenly dispersing food and supplies was working, how their own expansions were going. Negan was still frustrated, Rick could tell- it wasn’t overt anger, but it seeped between the cracks of his words in the way he griped about not having anything to do anymore as a leader, how he missed being able to thoughtlessly grab a drink at the end of a rough day instead of thinking about how everything was now rationed evenly.

“And my bed’s fucking  _ lonely _ , Rick. Can’t remember the last time I went a week without havin’ the option to get my dick wet.”

In spite of it all, Negan was trying, and Rick could appreciate that.

He was a damn good partner on runs, Rick realized as they swept the abandoned hardware store together. Alert, Lucille always poised at the ready over his shoulder, mindful to watch Rick’s back and fully trusting Rick to watch his own. That was something Rick hadn’t even noticed until now, as Negan took out a single stumbling walker while Rick loaded up a metal cart with panes of thick glass. He  _ trusted _ Negan, and Negan trusted him right back. Somehow, that was even more jarring than the thoughts of being in love he’d been having over the last week. He trusted Negan to watch his back, to keep him safe, to bring him back home to his children in one piece. When it came to his own well-being, Rick had no doubts that Negan would take care of him and have his back. The thought made him smile to himself as the two of them pushed the cart out the back entrance to load it into their truck.

_ There may come a day when you can trust him completely, like you would Michonne or Daryl or Tara. _

It seemed insane to entertain the notion, but he did anyway. He wanted to believe that Negan was capable of earning his keep in the long term.

They got the job done quickly, sealed up the exits to the place so no more walkers could get in before they sent more teams up to retrieve more supplies, and then they headed back to the truck. Negan tossed Rick something, and he caught it on instinct- an apple.

“From the Kingdom,” Negan said, biting into one of his own. “Arat set up a nice little trade with them a few days ago. Pickles for apples, can you believe that shit? Like a fucking farmer’s market.”

The apple was delicious, crisp and sweet, and Rick happily ate his leaning against the truck with his shoulder pressed to Negan’s. It was the simple things, he thought, that put it all in perspective.

And then Negan had to speak and send  Rick’s good mood plummeting straight into the dirt.

“Fuck. Can I just fucking claim you as my partner for shit like this in the future? As it turns out, I don’t get on so well with a shitload of the people livin’ at the Sanctuary.”

Rick snorted. “Yeah, I fucking bet.”

“I never fucking worried about that shit before, you know? Whether or not people liked me. I knew they probably harbored some fucking resentment, but shit. These people act like I pissed in their fucking Cheerios.”

“You were kind of a dick, Negan,” Rick pointed out, wiping apple juice from his chin.

“They’re fucking ungrateful,” Negan muttered. “Kept them alive, didn’t I?”

That settled like a stone in Rick’s stomach- the lack of remorse. He knew Negan wasn’t a monster, that he had a moral compass of his own, but if he really couldn’t see how he’d been mistreating people before…Rick didn’t know what to make of that.

“You can’t really think that people should be grateful just because you didn’t kill them, Negan.”

“I sure as shit can. Hell, you get it- I’m sure you were grateful that I only killed two of your men instead of the whole fucking lot of ‘em.”

It was a grave misstep- Negan knew it, and Rick knew that he knew it. It was written plainly on his face, that  _ I fucked up and really wish I’d kept my mouth shut _ expression that was rare to see him wear. But the damage was done, and Rick felt it like the grinding, screeching impact of a car crash.

“Shit. Rick, I-”

Rick cut him off. “You don’t get it. No,  _ listen to me _ , Negan, you don’t. I know you, I saw how you ran things. You did things efficiently, and there’s merit to that, I’ll admit it. But there’s more to being a leader than keeping people alive. People shouldn’t have to be  _ grateful _ to you for being the bare minimum of a decent human being. You didn’t care about the people you were leading, and that’s what ended up fucking you over. It’s why Dwight turned on you and why none of your wives wanted to stay with you, and it’s why the people there are going to take a long time to not be afraid of you.”

“I cared enough to fucking protect them, Rick. I provided security to people who were too weak to protect themselves.”

“That doesn’t mean you  _ cared _ . You did a job, you tried to get something out of it. I understand now, seeing all of it. I understand that your intentions were to start rebuilding something.  _ I do _ . But this, the way you did it, with fear tactics and force and the fucked up class system you had in place…was that really how you wanted to start the next world? That was the cause of so many problems with the old world, Negan: men who ruled through force and fear, who cared more about keeping their position of power than the actual people under them. You provided for them, sure, but what kind of life did you give them? We can do better. I know we can.” Rick reached out, taking Negan’s hand. “We can do it together, you and me. But if we do, if it’s  _ us _ , I need to know that you’re not that person anymore. I need to know that you really do see the wrong in what you did.”

“Rick,” Negan sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say? You want me to apologize for _bein' mean_ to people? For killing your men?”

“Would that be so terrible for you?”

“Would it make one fucking bit of difference?” Negan asked bitterly.

“Yeah. It would. You can’t take back what you did to Glenn and Abraham, as much as I wish you could, as much as Maggie and Sasha and Rosita and everyone else wishes you could. But if I know you’re sorry, it would be a start.”

“I didn’t want to kill them. I know you don’t believe me, but I don’t  _ enjoy _ killing. I do it because I have to. Because someone has to, to keep people in line.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. Not anymore.”

“I want you to be right about that, Rick. I really fucking do.” He scrubbed his free hand through his dark hair, making it stick up at odd angles. It made him look younger, Rick thought, softer around the edges. “If it’s worth anything, I am sorry. That I killed them. For a lot of reasons.”

“Give me the reasons. Tell me why you’re sorry,” Rick said. He needed to know that it wasn’t just because he was being scolded.

“Because it fucking hurt you, Rick. And that was the point of it, then. To hurt you. To make you submissive, to make you docile so I could control you. I could tell when I first stepped out of that RV that I wasn’t going to have to kill all of you to make you fall in line. Shit- you were out there runnin’ like wild animals through the woods trying to get that poor woman to a doctor even though you knew we were out there waiting for you to come running into our trap. I hadn’t heard of people doing shit like that in a long-ass time. I was just gonna kill the one of you, let that be a lesson learned, because you’re right. You killed two dozen of my men at that outpost, and my thought wasn’t  _ damn, I sure am gonna miss Billy and Tim and who-the-fuck-ever _ , but  _ damn, I’m gonna have to get more men to replace them _ . I didn’t give a shit about people, and I thought that kept me safe. Keep people at an arm’s length, and nothing can touch you, right?” Negan snorted. “Bull-fucking-shit. But that’s not the point here. The point is that you feel so fucking much, you  _ care _ so fucking much about these people, and I used that against you. Against all of you. And I’m sorry for that. Don’t you see how much you’ve changed me, Rick? Before, I didn’t give a shit. I would have walked away without a care in the goddamn world. Not that I’d have liked it, but I just wouldn’t have fucking cared.”

“And now?” Rick asked curiously.

“Now, after that fucking meeting, seeing that woman whose husband I killed…Maggie?” Negan shook his head. “Her kid will grow up never knowin’ their daddy because of me. She’ll be a single parent in the middle of the goddamned apocalypse because of me. I keep thinkin’ about it, Rick. Fuck, I haven’t had to actually think about shit like this for a long time, you know that? It’s because of you that I do. I thought I’d sealed myself off from all this, but here you are, making me feel guilty about all of it.”

“I don’t…I don’t want to make you feel guilty. I just need to know that you feel something.”

“I do. Fuck, Rick, I do. You and your fucking pansy-fucking shit with caring about people has rubbed right the fuck off on me. It was fucking easier before this. Jesus, if I’d known, that night, the first time I saw you, that you were gonna do this to me, I’d…”

Hurt seared through Rick, cutting him deeply, straight to the bone. He could fill in the gaps for himself:  _ If I’d known, I never would have offered to marry you.  _ Rick swallowed thickly, his eyes dropping to the ground, not wanting Negan to see how badly the words stung. He must have glimpsed it anyway, because a second later Negan’s fingers were under his chin, lifting his head up. He was frowning, his face concerned.

“What? What’s fucking wrong, what did I say?”

“I…” Rick wasn’t sure what to say, how to tell him that the thought of Negan regretting everything they’d gone through hurt him. Negan stared at him a moment, and then realization dawned in his eyes.

“Rick,” He murmured softly, “Do you think I regret marrying you?”

“Isn’t that what you were going to say?”

Negan looked pained. “No. Baby, no, it’s not.” Rick suddenly found himself pulled into Negan’s arms, held tightly against the taller man’s chest. Negan’s fingers came up to stroke his hair. “I don’t fucking regret you, Rick. Not for one goddamn second. I don’t ever want you to think that. I’ve lost so much because of you. My power, my wives, Dwight…but I don’t fucking care. I don’t. They were never mine in the first place, none of it was. And  _ this _ , having to feel things again, having to take fucking responsibility for all of the shit I did…all of it, every bit of it, is fucking worth it. You make me feel like a fucking person again, for the first time since…fuck, for the first time since Lucille. Marrying you was the best decision I’ve made since she died, Rick. Don’t ever think that I’d take it back, because I wouldn’t. I fucking wouldn’t, Rick, fuck, I fucking-” Rick felt Negan take a shaky breath against him, and then, “I fucking love you, Rick.”

Rick’s eyes shot open, his grip on Negan tightening. He opened his mouth, needing to say something, to reciprocate, but nothing came out.

_ He loves me. _

“You don’t have to say it back. Fuck, you were just fucking thinking that I didn’t care that I killed your friends, of course you don’t…but just know that I do.”

Rick tilted his face up to Negan’s, gazing into his intense hazel eyes. There was no expectation on his face, just a pleading honesty that made Rick’s chest ache. He couldn’t say the words yet, not when he was still so unsure of them, but for the first time he could think about Glenn and Abraham without wanting to rip himself open from the guilt, and Negan was looking at him like he was a guiding light that would lead him back home. 


	15. Chapter 15

“Hey, dad?”

“Hm?” Rick hummed in reply to his son’s voice as he handed Judith off to Tara with a parting kiss to the top of her blonde head. He loved that scent- that powdery, clean baby smell. It brought him back to the days when Carl was first born and he and Lori had sat close together in bed, passing him back and forth, completely in awe of the tiny, magnificent person they’d made together.

“Can I go with you?”

Rick’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, and he was sure the expression of surprise Tara wore at Carl’s words was a mirror of his own face. He turned toward his son, bewildered at the request. “You want to come to the Sanctuary?”

Carl looked a little miffed at Rick and Tara’s reactions. “Yeah. I mean…if we’re gonna be okay with them or whatever, I might as well see it, right? I want to go to the Kingdom, too. If there’s gonna be a new world, I want to see it.”

Rick searched Carl’s face for a lie- a hint of deception that would reveal some alternative motive for wanting to go into the den of the Saviors. Negan had stopped by twice more since his initial visit to Alexandria, and both times Carl had avoided the house like it had been condemned.

_ “Dad,” _ Carl groaned, rolling his eyes in an exasperated gesture that was so classically  _ teenager _ that Rick nearly laughed.  _ Where the hell does he learn this stuff without kids his age around? _ “I’m not going to do anything that would mess things up. You know I wouldn’t. I just want to see it.”

Rick exchanged a glance with Tara before nodding. “Alright. You can come. It’d be good for you.”

* * *

Rick quickly discovered a minute into the drive why Carl’s presence on this trip was a blessing in disguise: he and Michonne hadn’t spent this much time together since she’d moved out. They’d seen each other, of course, and had spent some time constructing the groundwork for the greenhouse together, but Rick couldn’t get a read on her feelings toward him. She didn’t seem uncomfortable or unhappy, but he’d never been the best at working out what other people were thinking.

“How are Rosita and Tara doing?” He asked, wondering immediately if what he was asking was too obvious-  _ how are you doing now that you’re living with them? _

“Tara’s good,” Michonne replied, both hands on the wheel. “She’s been sweet, though she’s not much of a cook. So not much different than things were.” She glanced over at him, a surprising amount of mirth in her eyes, and Rick couldn’t express the amount of relief he felt at the playful teasing in her voice. “Rosita’s…she’s working some shit out. She took a couple days to visit the Hilltop, spent some time with Sasha and Maggie and Aaron, and it seems like it helped her a lot. Tara suggested that they move there, but she said she didn’t want to do that. She likes it here, feels like home after all this time, you know? Plus, as rough as she can be on Eugene sometimes, she really cares about him, and Eugene’s not going anywhere, not with that bullet factory he’s got going so close by.”

“That’s good to hear,” Rick said. He’d hate it if everyone started fleeing Alexandria. It was selfish, but he missed having all of his friends so close.

“And she finally stopped hanging around with Spencer. I think when she heard about that little stunt he pulled on the wall, she realized that he’s not the kind of person who does anything productive with his anger.”

“Wait…what stunt on the wall? What’d he do?” Carl asked, leaning up from the backseat.

Michonne shot Rick a glance that said _ this one’s on you _ , and he sighed. “It’s nothin’, Carl.” The boy’s frown deepened, and Rick gave in. “He thought it was a good idea to waste bullets tryin’ to get a rise out of me and Negan when he came to visit that first time.”

“He  _ shot _ at you?” Carl asked, horrified.

“No. Not at us. Just…fired off a round at nothing when I went out to greet Negan. Like I said, it was nothin’. Just him bein’ petty.”

Carl was silent after that, sinking back into his seat, and Rick and Michonne spent the rest of the ride exchanging light conversation that almost felt easy. When they neared the Sanctuary, Rick addressed his son again. “Stay close to someone, me or Michonne or one of the other leaders while you’re here, alright? Don’t go wanderin’ off on your own like you do. I know you wanna see the place, and after the meeting I’ll show you around if you want, but I don’t want you on your own in there.”

“Why?” Carl challenged. “You can’t trust these people? I thought you and Negan-”

“This isn’t about Negan,” Rick said shortly. “Most of the people here are decent folks. Ordinary people, just tryin’ to get by. But I don’t know all of them, and not everyone is trustworthy, Carl. You know that.”

“Negan have a habit of taking in untrustworthy people?” Michonne asked, cocking her head at him.

“No. Just…sometimes you don’t know. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Carl. I’m not sayin’ I think anyone here would try anything, not after…” He cut himself off, shaking his head. “I’d just feel better if you stayed close. I said you could come, and I’m trusting you to be an adult about it.” Michonne parked the car, but nobody moved to get out.

“After what?” Carl asked curiously. “Did something happen while you were here?” Rick started to shake his head, and Carl grunted. “Please don’t say  _ it’s nothing _ again.”

“Fine,” Rick said. “I won’t. Because it wasn’t nothing. While I was here, a man attacked me. Blindsided me, gave me a concussion, tried to-” he swallowed roughly, feeling too aware of Carl and Michonne’s eyes on him. “If Negan hadn’t walked in when he did, it wouldn’t have been good. It’s not somethin’ I like to think about, but it happened. He... _took care_ of the guy that did it, made sure I was alright, and I know most of the people here aren’t like that. But I don’t want to take any chances.” The back of his neck prickled, and he felt uncomfortable exposed with the intensity of the gazes resting on him. “Just promise me, Carl.”

“Okay. Promise, dad.” Carl sounded sincere, so Rick decided his discomfort was worth it in the end.

“Good. Let’s go, then.”

* * *

Negan greeted them at the Sanctuary’s entrance, arms spread wide. He did an almost cartoonishly exaggerated double-take when he spotted Carl walking alongside Rick and Michonne, his face splitting into a wide grin.

“Ho-ly shit! Do my eyes fuckin’ deceive me? To what do I owe the pleasure of you comin’ to visit, kid?” He shot a smirk at Rick. “Your daddy make you come?”

Carl glared beneath the brim of his hat. “I wanted to come. See what the big deal with this place was.” His eye roved over the drab exterior of the Sanctuary. “Doesn’t look so great to me.”

Rick internally groaned.  _ There it is, startin’ off real strong- _

If Negan was even remotely offended, he didn’t show it. Instead, he guffawed loudly, one hand drifting to squeeze Rick’s shoulder. “Kid, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. It may not be the fucking Barbie dream houses you’ve got back home, but it’s not half bad. I’ll show you around after the meeting if you want.  _ Papa Negan’s Grand Tour _ .” The snort Carl made was echoed by Rick.  _ Papa Negan? _ He shook his head. “Meeting first, though. Don’t wanna keep people waiting. C’mon.”

Rick noted with some immense relief that the wall of walkers that Negan had previously constructed around the Sanctuary's perimeter was gone. In its place were sharpened wood spikes similar to the ones they used outside of Alexandria, and it looked like construction was beginning on a sturdier outer wall. Negan's hip bumped his own at they walked, drawing his attention. 

"You like what I've done with the place?" 

Rick nodded, smiling a little. "Yeah, I do. What made you decide to do it?"

"You," Negan replied immediately, "the way you have Alexandria protected is smart, and if the dead fuckers are already stuck on the spikes it's not as dangerous to clear them off as it was to switch out the walkers on the wall. Easier to keep people from workin' shitty jobs if there are less needlessly shitty jobs to work."

As they followed Negan inside and up to the meeting room, it dawned on Rick that Negan hadn’t kissed him hello like he usually did when they saw each other. He tried not to linger on it, focusing on greeting the other leaders when they arrived, talking trade and farming.

“We found a place we think might work as a meeting point,” Maggie said, laying out a map of the area on the table they were gathered around. “Right here. It’s a little office building, and the area’s pretty evenly spaced out from all our territories. Just gonna be an issue of clearin’ it out and keepin’ it clear.”

“That’ll definitely do us good for traveling,” Michonne nodded. “Save on fuel, less risk with a shorter trip.”

“That’s another thing,” Negan added. “Fuel. Not like we’re equipped to start drilling for that shit, and eventually, the trips to siphon it are gonna be eating up more gas than we’re scavenging.”

“He has a point,” Ezekiel agreed. “If I may offer a suggestion, I think it would be wise to begin looking into alternate forms of transportation. We’ve been riding horses at the Kingdom for many months, and if we continue to breed them, they could meet all of our needs.”

It was productive, it was  _ good _ \- so good that Rick was a bit surprised. Of course down the line they would doubtlessly run into conflict, and the strength of the alliance would be put to the test, but right now it was working. They were talking about the future, the far-flung, years-to-come future in a way that Rick hadn’t dared to in a long time. Maggie wouldn’t look directly at Negan, but she was collected and professional, hearing him out, even  _ thanking _ him, albeit rather stiffly, when he shared the information about the hardware store.

“It’s a big place, and god fucking knows that places like that aren’t as picked-over as grocery stores and shit. Even if we tap that one dry, we can find another. Not a lot of people are looking to build like we are.”

Carl was beside him, listening with interest, and Michonne and Maggie were talking with Arat, asking if they could be shown around, and Ezekiel was nodding at something Simon was saying. Things were really working, and for the briefest moment, Rick allowed himself to feel a small swell of pride at what they’d accomplished.  _ You did this. You had a part in this. You’re going to create a future for Carl and Judith and Maggie’s baby. _

Speaking of which-

“Rick!” Maggie pulled him aside, hand on his wrist, and gave him a smile that almost knocked the breath out of him. “I- I found out the gender of the baby.” She looked almost giddy with joy, one hand resting on her growing belly. She held out a small black-and-white ultrasound photo to him, her tidy handwriting legible in the white space at the bottom:  _ It’s a boy! Baby Hershel. _

Rick’s throat suddenly felt thick with the intensity of emotion.  _ “Hershel,” _ he whispered, awed, and suddenly the photo was blurred by the tears in his eyes. “Congratulations, Maggie.” He looked up at her, blinking the tears away, and her face was softer than he had seen it since Glenn’s death.

“Hershel Glenn Rhee,” she said, sweet and sad all at once.

“Thank you…for tellin’ me.” He wanted so badly to reach out to her, to hug her, but he didn’t want to break the fragile threads of their bond that remained.

Maggie only hesitated a moment before she threw her arms around his neck, hugging him tight. Rick gripped at her shoulders, feeling tears spill down his cheeks. “Thank you,” he whispered again, and she pulled back, wiping her eyes.

“I couldn’t not tell you. You’re family, Rick. Sometimes families fight, they pull away…but that doesn’t change that you’re still family to me. And today, seein’ all this, it really hit me for the first time. We’re doing this. We’re makin’ a future.” She squeezed his hand. “We did that.  _ You _ did that. I may not like some of the finer details, but you made this happen without a war. I think…I think Glenn would have wanted that.”

Rick swallowed, rubbing at his wet cheeks. “I hope he would have. I hope I can do something to make him proud.”

* * *

“Alright, kid! You ready to see where your daddy was layin’ his hat for the last few months?”

Negan waited for the inevitable scoff or for Carl to tell him to fuck off and go get Rick or someone to show him around. The way Rick told it, Carl would probably rather suffer through Simon or Arat’s presence before he agreed to a walking tour with Negan.

“Is dad not coming?” Carl asked, and Negan glanced over at Rick, who was smiling and laughing with Maggie. He looked positively over the moon that she had come up to him of her own accord, and as much as he was craving the man’s touch, he remembered the promise he’d made to himself last week when he’d told Rick that he loved him.  _ I’m going to fucking earn it _ , he’d vowed as Rick had gazed at him with something like wonder in his eyes.  _ You don’t love me, and that’s alright. But I’m going to make myself into someone you can. _

He didn’t have any clue what he could do to be someone worthy of Rick Grimes’ love, but he knew where to start- stop being so damn selfish. Or, at the very least, stop  _ acting _  so damn selfish. Rick had expressed several times that he wasn’t comfortable flaunting their relationship in front of Carl and Michonne, so he was trying that out today. He’d held back the initial impulse to draw Rick into his arms and kiss him when they’d arrived at the Sanctuary, and now he was going to let Rick catch up with his friend instead of forcing him to come along with him and Carl just so he could have an excuse to wrap an arm around Rick’s waist.

“Nope,” Negan replied, popping the  _ p _ dramatically. “Looks like he’s got some catchin’ up to do. I get that I’m probably not your first choice for this, but-”

“You’ll do,” Carl said curtly. “I’ll get Michonne.”

“Mi-  _ what?” _ He spluttered, watching the kid dart off and retrieve Michonne from where she was talking to Ezekiel and Arat. Negan watched them, feeling disoriented. Carl… _ and _ Michonne?  _ What the fuck? _

“We’re ready,” Carl piped up suddenly, and Negan shook his head trying to clear it. Michonne stood beside the boy, her face unreadable.

“Uh-”

“We going or not?” She asked, cocking her head at him like  _ he _ was somehow the odd one in this situation.

“I- fucking yeah, we are! The more the fucking merrier, I always say.”

_ Isn’t this fucking cute _ , he thought sarcastically,  _ just me and Rick’s kid- who fucking hates my guts- and his ex. Who fucking hates my guts. Couldn’t think of a more cheery-ass group of people. _

He half expected the two to wait until they were out of earshot and then lay into him. At the very least, he resigned himself to twenty minutes of glaring and silence while he cracked jokes that would inevitably fall flat.

He was pleasantly surprised when he only got uncomfortable silence with no glaring.  _ Baby steps. _

“So things have been going well here? People are adjusting to the new system?” Negan nearly gave himself whiplash with how fast his head whipped to look at Michonne. She gave him an unimpressed look and he regained his composure.

“Yep, it’s all been goin’ fine and dandy. I mean- for the most part, this is an upgrade for people. Not havin’ to work for points and shit. It’s only the people who were upper-level soldiers that are having trouble accepting the new world order. Even then, it’s nothing worth writin’ home about. Some whining and bitching, but it’s not like their lives have changed that fucking much.”

“Some people just like having that power over people,” Michonne noted wisely, and if her comment was pointed- and it must have been, he reasoned- it wasn’t intended to wound.

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “Guess so.”

He showed them around the yard out back, pointing out the construction that had started on the gardens and greenhouse. Back inside, he led them through some of the living quarters. “Not exactly the Ritz, but it ain’t half bad, and the place is big enough that people can have their own rooms if they want ‘em. We're working on getting that going now. There were a lot of people bunking on cots in some of the bigger rooms before, but we're trying to make this place more...livable.” The Sanctuary was huge, and there had always been more than enough room for everyone, but he hadn't exactly been concerned about keeping people comfortable before. The living quarters for anyone who wasn't him, his wives, or a soldier had been passable at best, but he was hopeful that allowing people their own space now would make them feel more at home here.

It was the marketplace that caught Michonne and Carl's attention, and for once, Negan got to see a look of something other than distaste on Carl’s face. “Whoa,” He breathed, glancing around at the rows of people making and trading goods. “Is that- is that  _ ice cream?” _

Negan chuckled. “Figures you’d make a fucking beeline for that, kid. It’s actually gelato, but it’s damn good. You want some?”

Carl stuttered forward and then back again, eyes darting between the two women at the gelato stand and Negan, looking torn. “What’ll it cost me?”

Negan dug into one of the deep pockets of his jacket, drawing out a folded swatch of blue silken fabric. “It’s on me, kid. I was gonna bring your daddy down here and get him somethin’, but I think he’d like it more if you were happy.” Carl looked at him uncertainly, as if searching for the loophole. “I’m not lookin’ to jerk you around here, kid. Rick would have my fucking head. Consider it a white flag. I don’t mind getting it for you.”

Carl chewed his lip for a moment before his sweet tooth won out. “Alright.”

Negan beamed. “Fuckin’ A!” He handed the fabric over to the woman behind the counter. “For that quilt you’ve been workin’ on, Angela.”

The woman looked at him warily, too. He got that look a lot from people- untrusting, uncertain. “This is a lot. It feels like real silk…”

Negan waved her off. “Like I’d know the difference. I found it out on a run the other day. Keep the change, I guess? God knows you’d put it to better use than I would.”

“T-thank you, sir,” Angela stammered out as her partner handed Carl a dish of gelato.

The _sir_ was a reflex, he knew that. It was nice to hear, though.

“Thanks for this,” he replied, tipping his head at Carl, who looked about as blissed-out as Negan could possibly imagine such a tightly wound kid being.

They headed back to the meeting room, Carl walking a little in front while Michonne trailed back and matched her strides to Negan’s. “You trying to bribe him?”

“What? Fuck no! That kid can’t be  _ bribed _ into likin’ me. I’m pretty sure he sees that gelato as a huge win for him. I’m not trying to-” he broke off, catching the nearly amused look on Michonne’s face. “What the fuck's that look for?”

“It was a joke,” Michonne clarified.

“Well excuse the shit outta me for not catchin’ that right off the bat. Didn’t think we were quite  _ there _ yet.”

“We’re not,” Michonne said, her face closing off again. “But I’m sure Rick will appreciate you making an effort with him. And with me.”

For the life of him he couldn’t tell if there was bitterness there. The woman was so damn hard to read.  _ Like Rick _ , he thought fondly. “Look, I’m just gonna shoot as straight as I can with you here, about me and Rick-”

Michonne cut him off with a raised hand. “No. I don’t want to hear about it, I don’t want apologies. Rick and I were together for a couple weeks. We were close before that, and I hope that one day we’ll be able to be that way again. But I’m not here to give you shit about being with him. I’m working on moving on, and as long as he’s okay, as long as he’s safe with you…then we don’t have a problem on that front.”

“He’s safe with me,” Negan promised, hoping she could hear the intensity in his voice, how much he meant it. “I wouldn’t let a damn thing happen to him, I fucking swear.”

She stopped for a moment, looking him dead in the eye. “I know. That’s what it sounds like, from what he told us. But I wanted to hear it from you.”

“What’d he tell you?”

“He said a man attacked him while he was staying here, and you took care of it.”

Negan gritted his teeth just thinking about the incident with David. “Yeah. Fucking shitstain jumped him. Tried to rape him. That shit doesn’t fly here.”

“What did you do to the man who attacked him?”

Fuck. He wasn’t sure what the right answer was here, but he wasn’t about to lie to this intense and fiercely protective badass of a woman, so he told her the truth and hoped for the best. “I killed him.”

Michonne didn’t look disturbed by this information, and he breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” She narrowed her eyes at him, searching his face. “Would you have done that for anyone? Or just for Rick?”

“For anyone,” he answered without a moment’s hesitation. “That shit’s inhuman. Like I said, it doesn’t fly here.”

Negan was shocked to see approval in Michonne’s warm eyes. “Good to hear.”

* * *

When they returned to the meeting room, Negan was floored to see one of his ex-wives, Tess, talking with Maggie. He shot a curious look at Rick, who was looking rather startled to see Negan with Carl and Michonne. Unable to stay away any longer, Negan sidled up to him, one hand settling on the small of Rick’s back, fingers dancing on the waistband of his jeans. “What’s Tess doin’ here?”

“Arat showed Maggie around and they bumped into her, I guess. Maggie’s a people person- they got to talkin’. I’m not sure why she’s here-”

“I want to offer her a job,” Maggie cut in suddenly Tess at her side. “Tess here said that you’ve been makin’ sure she and your other…wives…have good jobs that they enjoy, but she hasn’t quite found her place yet. I offered to let her come stay a few days at the Hilltop. Let her try out some things. We’ve got some jobs there that you don’t have here. Blacksmithing, and we’ve got some farm animals that we’ve been tryin’ to get domesticated.”

There was still distaste in Maggie eyes when she looked at him, but she was professional and dignified, the face of a leader.

“You want to start moving people out of here?” Negan asked, more than a little suspicious. Maggie was the last person he’d expect to be offering a home to former Saviors.

“I was thinkin’ that eventually people could move in between the communities, see what works best for them. Some people like Alexandria because it feels more like livin’ in a neighborhood, Some like the Hilltop more because it’s a smaller group. There’s benefits to each place.” He could practically hear her biting back the end of that sentence:  _ even here, at the Sanctuary. Probably. _

“Alright,” Negan conceded. “I see where you’re coming from. Free movement, people are welcome to come and go as they fucking please. What are you asking me for?”

“I’m not,” Maggie said curtly. “I’m just lettin’ you know that she’s comin’ back with me so you don’t do somethin’ stupid thinking I kidnapped one of your people.”

Negan huffed a laugh. “Yeah, fair enough.” He held a hand out to Tess. “Hope you find something that suits you there, darlin’.”

Tess smiled wide, looking hopeful. “Me too, Negan.”

* * *

Rick caught Negan’s arm after Maggie and Tess stepped away, pulling him to the side where they could talk privately.

“What were you doin’ with Michonne and Carl?” It wasn’t an accusation- at least, he hoped Negan didn’t see it that way. He’d just been a touch anxious when he turned around from his conversation with Maggie to see the three of them gone, and then utterly stunned to see them return  _ together. _

Negan shrugged, looking much more nonchalant than Rick felt he should be after something so earth-shatteringly strange. “I offered to show the kid around. You know, Papa Negan’s Grand Tour and all that shit. He had Michonne come along. Fuck _me_ if I know why.”

Rick scrubbed a hand over his beard. “How was…I mean…”

“How was it? Did I say some dumb shit to piss them off?” Negan supplied, grinning. “Nope! I was a perfect fucking gentleman, Rick. Cross my heart. Bought Carl some gelato and everything.”

Rick blinked at him, not quite comprehending what he was hearing. “You…he…?”

“Yep. I’d say we’re on the fast track to bein’ best fucking buddies, Rick. Give me another couple months, and he’ll be getting me  _ world’s best stepdad _ mugs and penciling me into your father’s day cards.” Negan snorted. “I don't fucking know. I guess he just wanted to fucking see the place. Same for Michonne. She, uh. She asked me something, though. About…what happened with David. Sounded like you already told her.”

Rick shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I did. Her and Carl, just before we got here. I wouldn’t have brought it up, but I didn’t want Carl wanderin’ off on his own. Just in case. I mean…I know that you take care of people like that, but…he’s my son.”

Negan reached out, squeezing Rick’s shoulder and then winding an arm around his waist. “You don’t have to explain that shit to me, baby. I know what you mean. I just wanted to let you know that it was brought up. She just seemed like she wanted to make sure that I was gonna be taking good care of you. And I let her know that I am.”

Rick felt a surge of warmth and affection for the man tucked so close to him, and suddenly the arm around his waist wasn’t  _ nearly _ enough. Glancing behind him to make sure the others were preoccupied- and they were, Carl was talking to Maggie and Michonne, sharing spoonfuls of gelato with them- he grabbed at the sleeve of Negan’s jacket and tugged him out of the room and down the hall.

“Whoa, where the hell are you takin’ me, Rick?” Negan didn’t sound the least bit perturbed, following Rick willingly.

“Just need somewhere-” Rick muttered, and then stopped at a door halfway down the hall. “What’s behind here?”

“Supply closet.”

“That’ll do.” Rick swung the door open and pulled Negan inside with him, kicking the door shut behind them and fumbling for the chain that flipped the switch to the lightbulb hanging low overhead, filling the small space with low yellow-tinted light. He all but leapt on Negan, the force of his hunger for the other man overwhelming him. Negan engulfed him in his arms as they kissed, Rick’s lips moving from Negan’s neck down his bared throat, unzipping his jacket so that he could put his mouth on the sensitive skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, sucking a mark there and humming a satisfied noise when Negan’s hips ground up against his own.

“You wanna put that pretty mouth to better use, Rick? ” Negan managed to get out between kisses. His voice was light- just goading, really. As much fucking as the two had done during their time together, Rick had never done  _ that _ particular thing for Negan, and Negan had never expressly asked. Rick wondered if the man avoided it for the same reason that he had been- because the idea of being on his knees at Negan’s feet, used solely for the other man’s pleasure, brought back too many harsh reminders of their initial meeting that night in the woods.

Today, however, Rick was feeling bold. With a coy smirk up at Negan, he soundlessly dropped to his knees, hands coming up to rub at Negan’s thighs.  “Maybe I do .”

Negan’s eyes were dark and swimming with lust, and Rick didn’t feel defeated being on his knees for him now. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted you like this, Rick. On your knees for me, sliding my dick down your throat, me fucking your pretty mouth…fuck, you drive me crazy, you know that?” He grabbed one of Rick’s hands, pressing it to the bulge straining against the front of his jeans  “I’m already so fucking  _ hard _ for you, Rick.” He purred, looking Rick up and down hungrily before placing a hand on the smaller man’s head, guiding him forward.

Rick swallowed hard, anticipation thrumming through his veins. His hands went for Negan’s belt, undoing it and tugging his pants and boxers down to mid-thigh. His breath stuck in his throat because  _ Christ _ , Negan hadn’t been lying. The other man was at full mast already, swollen and flushed and just inches from Rick’s waiting mouth. His breath ghosted over the head, and Negan cupped the back of Rick’s neck. 

“Go on then, Rick. Show me what you’ve fucking got. ”

A sudden swoop of anxiety overtook him, and he bit his lip nervously, eyeing Negan’s cock. 

“You scared of it, Rick? C'mon, now, it’s already been up your ass more times that I can count-”

He glanced down to see the shadow of uncertainty on Rick’s face, and his taunting tone instantly softened. His hand slid forward, releasing the harsh grip on Rick’s neck to cup his jaw, thumb stroking gently as if trying to soothe him

“Hey- hey, baby. It’s alright. It your first time doing this? ”

Rick’s face flushed with embarrassment, but he nodded, dodging Negan’s eyes.  He could never tell if Negan asked him things like that to make him squirm, or if he really just didn’t want to assume anything about Rick’s sexual history.

“Rick, baby, you don’t have to- you  _ know _ you don’t have to-”

“I  _ want _ to,” Rick insisted, resolve flooding back into him. “I just…I don’t know if I’ll be any good.” He admitted.  “First time and all.”

Negan smiled down at him. “You’ll be fine. Just do what you like. I’ll guide you.”

Rick licked his lips, hesitantly leaning in close. He took Negan in hand, stroking a few times to start off because he  _ knew _ that he could do that, at least. He’d made Negan come in his hand countless times in the shower or on lazy mornings when they woke up hungry for each other but lacked the energy to actually fuck. Negan purred a happy noise, hips twitching up into Rick’s movements until he leaned in to lap at the swollen head. At that Negan shuddered, his hand resting atop Rick’s head. Rick smiled to himself and leaned in closer, licking a wet stripe up the underside before closing his lips over the head and suckling gently. Negan hissed and swore, fingers scratching Rick’s scalp.

“Goddamn, Rick. I don’t know if it’s just because it’s fucking  _ you _ down there, but that feels…so fucking good-  _ shit!” _ He gasped as Rick slowly dipped his head, tongue sliding down the underside like partners had done for him in the past. He knew there was no way he’d be able to swallow down the whole thing, but he took what he could into his mouth, covering the base of Negan’s shaft with his hand and glancing up, looking for confirmation that he was doing alright.

Negan’s fingers carded gently through his hair, stroking and reassuring. “Doin’ so good for me, Rick. Fucking Christ.” He leaned his head back against the wall, breaking their eye contact. “Can’t fucking look you in those gorgeous baby blues while your mouth’s full of my cock, baby. I’ll fucking blow my load before this even gets started.”

Rick chuckled around the dick in his mouth, and Negan cursed again. Slowly, Rick started up a clumsy pace that soon enough became smooth and steady under Negan’s guiding hands. He tried to recall what Negan always did for him when he was between his thighs, and hollowed his cheeks, swallowing around the length and reveling in the shaky moan that echoed in the small space they were in. He could feel Negan leaking onto his tongue, and the thought flashed through his mind without warning. He released Negan’s cock with a soft, wet noise and Negan let out a sound that was nearly a whine.

“Ri- _ Rick. _ C’mon, baby, don’t leave me high and dry-”

“Want you to come in my mouth,” Rick rasped, his voice hoarse, and Negan made a feral sound in his throat, clutching at Rick’s hair and tugging needily. Rick obliged instantly, swallowing him back down as far as he could and humming around him.

“Rick, Rick,  _ Rick,” _ Negan groaned. “Fuck, baby, you just about made me come all over your pretty face sayin’ shit like that.” Rick took his cock as far as he could and swallowed experimentally, and Negan nearly shouted. “Shit! Oh, fuck, Rick, I’m- you’re so fucking good, baby, I’m gonna-”

Rick grabbed at Negan’s hips, hands sliding around to grip at his ass and pull him closer. Negan was tugging almost painfully at the roots of his hair, but he found that he fucking  _ liked _ it, having this much control over the man’s pleasure. Negan made a broken noise into his hand and suddenly his release was flooding Rick’s mouth, salty and a little bitter, but Rick swallowed around him until Negan pulled away, practically slumped against the wall.

“Goddamn, Rick,” He breathed, chest heaving. “You’re a fucking natural cocksucker, you know that, baby?”

Rick snorted, wiping at his wet mouth and rubbing at his aching jaw. “Fuck you, Negan.” He grinned, reaching up to tuck Negan’s cock back into his pants and refastening his belt. Negan chuckled weakly, pulling Rick in for a kiss that was more tongue than anything. “Jesus fucking Christ, Rick, you taste like come. That’s fucking hot as  _ shit.” _ He glanced down, eyeing the bulge in the front of Rick’s worn jeans. “You can’t go out there like that. No fucking sir.”

“Yeah?” Rick smirked. “You gonna help me out?”

Negan had him with his jeans around his thighs and his palms pressed flat against the wall in a matter of seconds, one spit-slick hand wrapped around Rick’s aching dick while he pressed himself against Rick’s bare backside. Rick moaned, hips bucking into Negan’s fist as he was stroked.

“Mmm, Rick,” Negan hummed, his free hand sliding between Rick’s thighs to cup his balls and squeeze gently. “You naughty fucking boy, draggin’ me out here to blow me in a closet. What would the others think if they knew?”

“They- they’ve probably noticed we’re gone by now,” Rick panted out. “Not like they hold me in high esteem anyway, right?” If he was being honest, he didn’t really care at the moment if the whole council was outside the door with hands cupped to their ears to hear him moan. The only thing on his mind was Negan’s hand on him, stroking and squeezing him just right. He was right on the edge when Negan’s free hand found his backside, squeezing the flesh there before giving him a swift, playful slap. He jerked, gasping as his muscles tightened and strained and he came hard over Negan’s fist, forehead pressing against the cool stone of the wall while Negan milked him dry.

He caught his breath and turned around just in time to see Negan lapping up the come dripping over his hand, and Rick’s face turned even redder. “What?” the man asked, making a vain attempt at looking innocent while licking come off his fingers. “Didn’t want to leave a fucking mess. I’m being  _ thoughtful _ .”

Rick laughed breathlessly, struck for a moment at how strange and satisfying his life had become lately. He tugged his pants up, righting himself best he could and hoping that it didn’t look too obvious that they’d just been getting off together. “C’mon, you fuckin’ pervert. We need to get back.” He stepped out of the closet and Negan followed, delivering another quick smack to Rick’s ass as they walked. Rick glared at him halfheartedly, face flushing.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that that’s what made you come, Rick.” Negan teased, winding an arm around his shoulders. “Which one of us is the pervert, again?”

Rick snorted, trying to rub at his burning face. “Still you. Now shut up and be decent.”


	16. Chapter 16

It was a little over a month into their newfound era of peace that Rick took the leap.

“You should stay the night,” he said into the curve of Negan’s neck as they clumsily curled around each other, still sweating and breathless from what they’d just been doing. Negan laughed against Rick’s cheek, shaking his head.

“Your kid will throw an absolute shitfit if he sees that I’m gettin’ too cozy here, Rick. You really want all that? You know I don’t mind overstaying my welcome in suburbia, but I’ve got a feeling you’d have more than a few pissed-off neighbors knocking down your front door if they knew you were lettin’ me stay in your bed.”

Rick frowned at the thought, squeezing Negan tightly around the middle like he was unwilling to have the man pried from his arms. “It’s none of their business who’s stayin’ in my bed.”

“True,” Negan conceded with a kiss to Rick’s temple. “But not everyone feels that way. And call it me being a big fucking sap for you, baby, but I don’t want to make your life any harder than it has to be. Not anymore.”

There was a deep, rich sense of warmth that always blanketed Rick when Negan talked like that, like he was really working on being someone better, someone Rick could feel proud of loving. And by every indication, Negan was truly doing his best to improve himself. Rick caught onto the small, struggling changes that he was starting to make right away: not openly shoving his relationship with Rick in Carl’s face had been a big one, and Rick couldn’t fully express how much he appreciated it. Carl had been doing better, and while he and Negan were nowhere close to being on friendly terms, he at least seemed to be glaring a little less, not immediately shooting out the door when Rick had him over. Rick no longer felt like he was on tentative ground with him, where the slightest misstep could send him tumbling into dangerous territory. Carl obliged him and occasionally helped in the gardens, though it was clear that his son’s interests laid in more active work. He’d already been going out on short day-long runs with Michonne and Daryl, and now that Rick was back home, they sometimes went together. As much as Rick loathed the thought of Carl being in more danger than absolutely necessary, he had to admit that being able to have his son by his side as a trusted ally when they went beyond the walls filled him with more pride than he could say.

“You’re not makin’ my life more difficult,” Rick reassured Negan, slinging a leg over the man’s hip so that he could lay atop his chest and drag his fingers through the dark curling hair there. “I’m offering. If you don’t want to stay, if you’ve got stuff you need to get back to, that’s one thing. But don’t think I’m the one stoppin’ you from stayin’ here every so often.” And then, because he knew that no confession he made to Negan could seem like too much in the face of the fact that Negan had told him that he loved him, he tacked on, “I miss you. Miss fallin’ asleep with you at my back and wakin’ up in your arms.”

Negan’s face went from impassive to pure warmth in seconds, his hazel eyes as sweet as caramel as they took Rick in. “Well, if  _ that’s _ the case. Can’t fucking say no to you, Rick.”

* * *

As Negan had predicted, when the two came downstairs the next morning Carl looked positively floored with the sheer strength of his disgust. Rick gave him a warning look, hiking Judith up higher on his hip as if to say  _ don’t start yelling and upset your sister. _ A cheap tactic, perhaps, but it worked: Carl kept his rage to a low seethe.

“He moving in here or something? You going to try to make us one big happy family like we were  _ before _ he showed up?” Everything about the accusation was sharp, from the cutting words to the razor-thin glare. Rick took a breath, settled Judith into her high chair, and tried to deflect the way the words wounded him.

“No. He just stayed the night. Can you get her applesauce for me?” Rick noted with some amusement that Negan looked woefully out of place in his kitchen, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to sit or take part in a family breakfast. Rick took mercy on him, kicking the chair across from himself out with his foot and nodding at it, inviting him to sit with them. Negan sank into it gratefully, his calves bumping Rick’s under the table.

Carl handed Rick the applesauce with a little more disdain than what was entirely necessary. He turned to glare over at Negan, whose look of feigned innocence probably wasn’t helping matters. “You’re just going to invite yourself over whenever you want? Like  _ before _ ?”

“I asked him to stay,” Rick cut in hastily before Negan could get his feathers ruffled. He’d been good lately, despite the way he garnered side-eyed glares and hateful whispers whenever he was in Alexandria. Rick knew it was for his sake- he sometimes caught a look in Negan’s eye like he was physically biting his tongue to hold back the doubtlessly cutting retorts threatening to spill forth. Sometimes Rick worried how much the man could take before he snapped.

Sometimes, Rick wondered how much Negan could take before he decided he wasn’t worth the abuse.

Carl didn’t seem to hear Rick’s words, or if he did, they were just more kicks to the hornet’s nest. “We were happier before, you know that?” he spat at Negan, arms crossed defiantly. “Dad was happier with Michonne. He may think he likes you right now, but he  _ loved _ her. She was better for him. Anyone would be better for him than you.”

“Carl!” Rick shouted, rising from his seat to stare down at his son in horrified anger. “That’s enough. If you can’t be civil, you’re excused. Go get a head start on your chores.” Carl whipped around to scowl at him, but Rick shook his head. “I mean it. I’m not askin’ you to like any of this, but I am askin’ that you don’t pick fights. Go on. I’ll be out in a few minutes and we can talk when you’ve cooled down a little.”

Rick sank down into his seat, head buried in his hands, when Carl slammed the door behind him. It was times like this- times where Carl seemed like he was going to be an impossible sell- that made him almost rethink the whole thing. He could so clearly remember how much he’d hated Negan at the beginning, when he’s first been forced to stay at the Sanctuary. He could see all the little moments that had slowly changed his mind over their time together, such small, gentle things between them. He was terrified that Negan would only ever be able to offer moments like that to him. He’d thought for so long that maybe that was a good enough reason to be with him- that  _ he _ knew the man was capable of kindness.

_ Maybe that’s not enough _ , he thought brokenly.  _ If Carl never gets any better with him… _

His chest ached, and for a single terrible moment he felt his eyes burning before he blinked and dug the heels of his palms into them, driving away the tears. He couldn’t cry- not now, not over harsh words from his son and hyperbolic what-ifs.

The sound of Judith’s happy gurgling made him lift his head to see Negan, applesauce in hand, lifting spoonfuls to his daughter’s waiting mouth. She grasped eagerly at his hands, wanting more, and he seemed to have eyes only for her at that moment. He made soft, goofy airplane noises with his mouth, making her giggle and crack messy smiles that made Rick’s heart melt and pour between the spaces between his ribs. Beneath the table, Negan’s ankle slid up Rick’s calf, and he reached out with his free hand to cover Rick’s own and give it a squeeze.

_ If only Carl could be that easy _ , Rick thought as he dunked dishes in the sink when they were done. Negan was wiping up Judith’s applesauce-splattered face, and Rick could only imagine the scorn he would receive if someone were to walk in and see him allowing Negan to take care of his child like that.

“Baby,” Negan murmured against the back of Rick’s neck, unexpectedly close all of a sudden. His hands covered Rick’s hips, sliding around his waist to hug him tightly, one warm palm flat against Rick’s belly. “Are you alright? I know that was some  _ shit _ with Carl just now, I told you he wouldn’t like me stayin’ here.”

Rick sighed, shutting off the water and leaning back into the wall of warmth that was Negan. “I know. I know you did. And I knew he wouldn’t. I just thought I could handle it. That it wouldn’t be that bad.”

Negan chuckled, but it was bereft of humor. “It fucking was that bad.” His lips found Rick’s neck, pressing gentle kisses to the sensitive skin above Rick’s collar while one hand rubbed lovingly up his belly in soothing circles.

“I’m sorry about what he- he shouldn’t have said that to you.” Rick squeezed his eyes closed, hoping that he could block out the words from replaying in his head.

Negan was silent for a long minute, his lips still against Rick. “I get it. Trust me, I fucking get it, Rick. Kid’s got a lot of reason to be unhappy with daddy number two.” Rick hated when Negan sounded like this- quiet and monotone, all his layers of pretense and laughter stripped away. “Shit, it’s not like he’s tellin’ me shit I didn’t already know.”

Rick stiffened, turning in Negan’s arms and frowning up at him. “Negan,” he said, heart breaking, “you can’t take shit like that to heart-”

“Oh, I most certainly fucking  _ can _ , Rick. Kid knows how to hit you where it hurts- teenagers have a fuckin’ talent for it, I swear. Nothing he said just now was a lie. I know it, you know it. Don’t think for a second that I’m not aware of just how much I fucked your life up.”

Negan wouldn’t look at him, kept his forehead pressed to the top of Rick’s head like he was weary, and fear struck Rick to his core. “Negan. I’m not gonna stand here and lie to you, tell you I wasn’t happy with Michonne, happy when…when everyone was alive and well.” He felt Negan’s grip start to loosen on him, but Rick clung tight, stopping him from pulling away. “Don’t fucking do that. Don’t. You hurt me- hurt me a lot, but I’m not gonna hold that over your head forever. I don’t want you lookin’ over your shoulder at me, waitin’ on the other shoe to drop. I don’t want you thinking that all I see when I look at you is the pain. Because it isn’t.” He exhaled shakily, pressing his lips to Negan’s throat, to his chin, to his cheek, until the taller man was looking him in the eye. “I love you,” Rick whispered, and he could see how the confession affected Negan, how his eyes went wide and disbelieving, nearly awed. “I love you, Negan, and I don’t want shit like this coming between us. I want to believe that Carl will come around eventually. I did. It’s gonna take time, and it’s gonna take patience from both of us, but I want to make this work.”

It felt good to have finally said it, and Rick could tell by the way Negan crushed him to his chest and buried his face in the crook of his neck that it was the right thing to say. It was comforting to know that he  _ was  _ actually capable of saying the right thing sometimes.

* * *

Carl was still fuming when Rick went to join him in the gardens. Perhaps it was because Negan was still by his side- albeit on his way to the gate. He didn’t say anything, and Rick was about to offer to walk Negan out so that he could say a proper goodbye without further fueling his son’s stormy mood when Michonne strode over, map and car keys in hand.

“There’s a small herd of walkers about a mile out, heading this direction. Tara and Rosita already left to start leading them away, but it’s more than a two-person job and Daryl’s at the Hilltop right now.”

Rick nodded, already motioning to Carl to abandon the gardening. “Alright. Carl, you up for somethin’ like this? If you go with us, you need to stay by me and Michonne, stick together. You listen to us, you follow orders.”

To his credit, Carl seemed to immediately abandon his anger in favor of determination, nodding at Rick’s words. “I can do it. I’ll be safe. Promise.”

“Good. You already got a truck out front?” Rick asked.

Michonne nodded. “Yep. I’m ready when you are.” She paused for a moment, her gaze sliding past Rick and over to Negan. She looked pensive. “We could use one more. Just in case. I don’t see this getting out of hand, it doesn’t sound like it’ll be too hard to deal with, but just in case…”

“You want  _ me _ to come?” Negan asked, his voice colored with disbelief. “Are you fucking serious?”

Michonne narrowed her eyes. “Yeah. I am. I know you can handle yourself out there, and that you’ll have Rick’s back, at the very least.”

“Plus, if something happens to me, it’s just a fuckin’ bonus, right?” Rick stiffened- Negan sounded right on the cusp of teasing and accusatory, and the thought that something could happen to him out there- or that Michonne had asked him to come simply so he could be a distraction for the dead if things got dicey- made his stomach churn.

_ No. You know Michonne. She wouldn’t do that. She may not like him, but she’s not cruel. _

Luckily, Michonne took the accusation in stride. “You’re not my first choice, but you’re here, and right now, that’s good enough. You want to come or not?”

“Shit. I’ll come. Got nothing better to do, and I’d rather be there to make sure your asses stay in one piece. Just let me grab Lucille out of the car and I’ll be ready to roll.”

* * *

If Negan was being honest, it felt good to have Lucille back in his hands, ready to fight. He never brought her out of the car when he came to visit Rick- didn’t want people to see her and flinch away more than they already did, and he certainly didn’t want Rick to be reminded of all the times he’d come here before and wielded her as a threat to his friends’ safety. And lately, he hadn’t craved the weight of the bat in his hand or resting on his shoulder as much as he usually did. She’d been a crutch for so long, a weaponized security blanket, really, and as much as he still loved her, it felt good to walk around with both hands free and a weight off his shoulders.

Carl had immediately claimed the front seat as his own- not that Negan minded in the least, since Rick was in the backseat with him. Unfortunately, he figured that nobody in the car would be amiable to him sucking face with Rick while they drove, so he contented himself with a hand on Rick’s thigh. If his palm slid a little too high, well…

“ _ Negan _ ,” Rick growled low enough that it was only for him to hear. “What are you  _ doin’ _ ?”

_ Being an asshole _ , Negan thought as his palm slid up to the juncture of Rick’s hip and thigh. He shouldn’t- Rick had already dealt with one outburst from Carl today, and the last thing he needed was Negan causing another one. It was immature, the reason he was doing it, but Carl’s words from this morning rattled around in his head:  _ “ _ _ Dad was happier with Michonne.”  _ Negan wondered if that was true in every sense- obviously she was a better partner for Rick in the way that she wasn’t hated by his friends and family, but was she really better than him in every possible way? Could she make him laugh harder than he could? Could she make him blush and scream her name and come with his back arching and mouth hanging open on a pitiful moan?

It was petty, but it made him want to put Rick on his back right there in the car, slide into him and fuck him senseless. Rich caught his hand right before it could inch over to cup his crotch, shooting Negan a warning look. “ _ Don’t _ . I mean it.”

He pulled his hand away and was tempted to sit on it to keep it off of Rick. He hated this, not knowing what was okay to do and what wasn’t. Before, he hadn’t had to question whether he could sling an arm over Rick’s shoulders when they talked around Alexandria during pickups- it was just how things were, and everyone assumed that Rick just had to take it. Not that that assumption didn’t make him feel slimy, but at least he could touch Rick without setting Carl off into an angry tirade.

The warm pressure of Rick leaning into his shoulder eased his thoughts, and Rick gave his hand a squeeze. It never failed to amaze Negan that such small, simple gestures from Rick could soothe him so quickly.

It was a short drive to find the herd, but the real trouble came when they finally reached the bodies teeming in the center of the road and stumbling up through the woods. They stopped, parked in the middle of the road, and Michonne laid on the horn until the dead were stumbling  toward them, arms outstretched. “We’ll draw them away like this for a while, try to get most of them following us. Take them a good ways out and get them heading away from the communities, and then double back when we’re in the clear. They’re all over the woods, too, so we should probably sweep the area and make sure that there’s not a lot trailing behind.”

Negan looked out the windows at the dead following them. “No fucking offense, but what the hell did you need all of us for if we’re just gonna be in the car the whole time?”

“The car might get swarmed. The herd could break off into two groups and stop following us. We could run into some other trouble,” Michonne answered, and Negan could tell she was doing her best to not sound like she was explaining basic math to a child.

Negan made an irritated noise under his breath, glancing out at the mass of the dead stumbling at an idle pace behind the car.  _ Yeah, we’re in real fucking danger out here- _

“Shit!” Michonne slammed the brakes suddenly as the road merged up ahead, Negan nearly flying into the windshield if it hadn’t been for Rick’s arm thrown protectively across his chest.

“What the fucking  _ fuck _ -” Negan started, only to look out the front window and see  _ exactly _ what the fuck was going on.

It seemed that Rosita and Tara’s half of the herd had taken a detour right into their path. The road ahead was flooded with walkers, stumbling along and following a car far up ahead. Michonne had already brought the car to a stop so they wouldn’t draw away the herd that Rosita and Tara were leading, but their own group was gaining on them, and the fork in the road was still teeming with the dead, some of which were not distracted and heading toward the idling car.

“Shit, shit…they said they weren’t going to be taking this road!” Michonne hissed, eyes darting from mirror to mirror.

“Herd must have taken a turn. Maybe the road was blocked, there was that storm last week…” Rick boosted himself up through the sunroof as Michonne opened it, getting a better look before quickly sinking back down into the car. “We’re surrounded on all sides. If we stay here, we’re gonna start drawing them to us.”

“At the risk of making a stupid fucking suggestion…should we just gun it as far as we can out of here? Mow ‘em down with the car and make a break for it when we can? They’re coming from that road, so it should thin out pretty quick. If we can just make it a little ways down and then fuckin’ book it out of there on foot…”

Michonne frowned deeply, shooting a panicked look at Carl. “That’s awful risky.”

“So’s staying here and waiting to get surrounded,” Negan pointed out.

Michonne nodded, glancing out the window one last time before putting the car back in gear. “Alright. I’m gonna get as far as I can. As soon as the car stops, make a run for it. Carl, you stay close to us, you hear me? Two and two, make sure we have each other’s backs.” Negan swallowed roughly at the sound of hands banging on the side of the vehicle- he could barely see the trees for the dead that surrounded them. Michonne stepped on the gas, barreling the car through the throng of walkers, and Negan kept a death grip on Rick’s thigh and Lucille the whole time.

_ We can do this. We’ll be fine. _

* * *

The front windshield of the car was so splattered in walker guts that the interior was tinged red by the time they shuddered to a grinding halt, the engine clogged so full of decay that they couldn’t go any further. Rick barely registered the kiss Negan gave him before they were scattering out of the car and making a break for the other side of the herd. Michonne was ahead of him, slicing clean through arms and necks and torsos, while he raised his gun and picked off any walkers that got too close as they shoved their way through, praying that the sound didn’t draw too many toward them and away from Rosita and Tara.

Rick and Michonne stood with their backs pressed together, fighting their way through to rejoin Carl and Negan as quickly as they could. Rick trusted Negan with Carl’s safety-  _ he did _ \- but it made him uneasy to think of the two of them on their own. He could hear shots being fired not far away, and he didn’t have to even look at Michonne to know that that’s where she was heading. There were some things that never changed, and their unspoken devotion to Carl’s well-being was one of them.

It was smooth sailing for a whole ten seconds- they caught sight of both Negan and Carl, standing back to back and moving slowly ahead toward a break in the herd.

For something that happened so quickly, Rick felt the next ten seconds drag by in slow motion.

He heard the desperate click of Carl’s gun firing on empty, saw the panic on both his and Negan’s faces so  _ clearly _ as Carl used the butt of his gun to try to ward off an incoming walker. Rick heard someone screaming as they were swarmed and Lucille clattered to the ground, and it wasn’t until he felt Michonne shaking him that he realized it was his own voice.

“Rick! Rick! Help me get to them!”

Rick didn’t register how many of the dead he took down in his frantic effort to get to Carl and Negan. He had tossed his gun before he even realized that he’d run out of bullets, his brain operating on pure adrenaline and instinct. He drove his knife into rotten skulls until he felt it wrench out of his hand as a walker collapsed with it.

_ This is it. This is how we’re all going to die- _

A glint of polished wood caught his eye and he dove for it between the gaps in the herd. He dimly heard Michonne shouting something behind him, but he had his sights set on Lucille. He groped blindly for the handle, swinging the bat up in a deadly arc when he finally gripped it, sending a nearby walker stumbling back. There was a group of them all together, clawing at a huddled mass on the ground nearby. “Michonne!”

He didn’t even have to call- she was already by his side, cutting away the walkers there, practically roaring at them in an attempt to get them to abandon their pursuit.

Rick felt his stomach turn inside out at the first glimpse of black leather beneath the teeming mass of the dead.  _ No, no, no, they can’t be… _

The herd was thinning, whether it be from their own efforts or the natural flow of their movement, and a moment later Negan was moving, still hunched protectively over-

“ _ Carl-! _ ” Rick and Michonne’s cries echoed each other, and they stumbled forward and in front of the two people struggling to their feet. Michonne took up the front, Rick the rear, and together they made their way to the break in the crowd, bolting away from the horrific sight behind them. The four of them ran until they couldn’t anymore, lungs and legs burning as they nearly collapsed, far enough down the road that the snarls of the dead could only faintly be heard.

Rick fell over his son, knocking the hat off of his head and running his hands over his arms and neck alongside Michonne. “Carl-  _ Carl _ , are you- are- did you-” he couldn’t force himself to say it.  _ Did you get bitten? _

Carl shook his head frantically, hands shaking worse than Rick had ever seen. “I-I don’t think so. I’m alright, I’m fine- he-” he looked over at Negan, his single blue eye wide with fear and shock. “You- you-”

“Fucking saved your ass?” Negan provided, albeit shakily. He looked more rattled than Rick had ever seen, his face shining with sweat and smeared with the same red that his jacket was coated in. Rick’s whole body seemed to collapse in on itself at the sight of him, and he rushed over, hands searching.

“N-no,  _ no _ , no! You’re fine, you’re fucking fine you asshole-” There was so much blood, Rick’s hands coming away sticky with it wherever he touched Negan.

“I am, darlin’. It’s alright. It’s not mine, as far as I can tell.” Negan said in a voice that would have been soothing if he wasn’t painted crimson. “Carl caught a dead one that was almost right on top of me, blew its brains out. Doesn’t look pretty, but I think that’s what all this is.”

Rick wrenched Negan’s jacket off, revealing the white shirt beneath it.  _ It’s still white _ , he realized as he circled Negan, hands on his back and arms and belly. Negan caught him by the waist, stilling his frantic search for bites. “Rick. I’m alright.”

Rick felt tears welling up, blurring his vision. Carl was by his side in an instant, squeezing his arm. “We’re alright, dad.”

Rick’s cheeks were wet as he crushed Carl to his chest, burying his soaked face into the boy’s long hair. “I- I saw you go down,” he whispered. “I thought- when I saw how many were on you, I thought-” he let out a helpless sob at the memory of it, and felt Carl’s arms tighten around him in response.

“It’s alright, dad. I’m okay. Negan-” Carl let out a shaky breath, like he was admitting something terrible. “Negan saved me. Pulled me under him and kept them off of me.”

Rick felt Negan’s warm hand on the small of his back, and he turned to him, hands groping at the back of his neck to draw him closer. Negan cradled him in his strong arms, hands rubbing up and down his back. “Shh, Rick,” he murmured into his hair as Rick clung to him. “We’re alright. Everything’s alright. We got out.” Rick felt a quick kiss being pressed to the top of his head, shy delight sparking in him at the sweet gesture. “I gotta fucking say it, Rick- you looked  _ damn  _ good swingin’ Lucille around like that. If we weren’t having such a goddamn kodak moment right here, I’d-”

Rick laughed helplessly into Negan’s chest, half-sobbing as he did. “Shut up,” he whispered, not wanting him to be quiet at all. 

* * *

When they got back to Alexandria, Carl showered off first, Rick all but shoving him into the bathroom and making him swear to check thoroughly for bites. He knew that it was improbable that Carl had been bitten- Negan had draped himself protectively over him and any of the blood on his clothes was likely from Negan’s gut-coated jacket. Rick just felt better knowing for sure. He, Negan, and Michonne didn’t speak while they waited in the living room, and Rick was too shaken to keep himself away from Negan. His hands wandered mindlessly beneath the man’s t-shirt, skimming bare skin in attempt to soothe himself.

He felt better when Carl came downstairs dressed in clean clothes, promising that “No, there aren’t any bites,” and “yes, I checked everywhere.” Rick kissed the top of his son’s head, the weight on his chest lifting a little.

When Michonne and Carl left, Rick followed Negan to the bathroom, closing the door behind them. “Baby, I promise-” Negan began, only to be cut off with a shake of Rick’s head as he pulled Negan’s shirt over his head.

“You scared me,” Rick said quietly as he undid Negan’s belt buckle. “Just let me.”

Negan let Rick strip him with careful hands, let him guide him beneath the warm spray of the water and slide wet hands over his skin. It was about the third time checking Negan over that Rick was finally able to let go of the breath he’d been holding, and the relief of knowing that both Negan and Carl were unharmed made him sink weakly to his knees while he clutched at Negan’s hips.

“I thought I lost you,” Rick rasped, his cheek resting on Negan’s thigh. “Thought I lost both of you.” Negan’s hands carded through his hair for a moment before he joined Rick on the tiled floor of the shower, pulling him into his arms and kissing his cheeks, his forehead, his lips.

“You didn’t.”

Rick pressed his face into the wet curve of Negan’s throat, mouth moving against skin as he spoke. “You saved him,” he whispered, and Negan chuckled weakly into his hair.

“Wasn’t about to let your kid die, Rick. Not on my fucking watch.”

“Don’t want you to die either,” Rick confessed in a hoarse whisper into Negan’s collarbone, and the man’s rumbling laugh felt like thunder beneath the water falling on their backs.

“I’m not fucking goin’ anywhere, baby. I’m right here.” Negan tipped Rick’s chin up with gentle fingers until their lips met, and suddenly their closeness wasn’t enough for Rick. He climbed into Negan’s lap, knees spread on either side of his hips while they kissed deep and wet, Rick’s hands cupping Negan’s face like he was something golden and treasured.

“Fuck me,” Rick breathed urgently, hips rutting into Negan’s with a sudden unabashed need. “Need it, Negan.  _ Please _ .” He guided Negan’s hand to the cleft of his ass, fingers digging into wet shoulder blades. “Need you inside me.”

Negan spluttered out a surprised laugh, kissing a sweet line up Rick’s throat before tracing the same path with his tongue, making Rick shudder and squirm into his chest, his cock beginning to twitch to life between their bellies. Negan gave his ass a two-handed squeeze while a finger stroked over his entrance. “I think we’re missin’ something, Rick.”

Rick leaned in, lips at the shell of Negan’s ear. “Then take me to bed.”

They were still wet from the shower when Negan laid him out on soft sheets, but Rick didn’t care. His need for the other man burned inside of him, building to a licking flame in his belly as Negan’s slippery fingers worked inside of him. He couldn’t remember ever craving Negan’s touch so intensely, not even the weeks they’d spent apart. After a minute, Rick couldn’t stand it any longer and he rose up, shoving Negan onto his back and crawling over him to sink down onto his slick length, taking it all with a deep, satisfied moan.

“ _ Jesus _ , Rick,” Negan hissed between his teeth, hands gripping his waist and sinking into soft flesh. Rick rocked his hips, pleasure burning through him as they moved together, even more so when Negan rose to sit, holding Rick close as he thrust up into him. Rick bowed over him, taking the thick length with a throaty moan each time Negan sank to the hilt inside of him. He felt his lover’s hot breath fogging over his chest and squeezed him between his thighs.

_ He’s okay. He’s here, and everything’s okay. _

“I love you,” Rick gasped as he bounced in Negan’s lap. “I love you, I-  _ oh _ -”

“Love you,” Negan echoed, hips rolling up to meet Rick’s. “Fucking love you, Rick.”

Rick wasn’t sure if he kept saying it aloud, but the words flowed like a mantra in his head as they fucked, and Rick could only say Negan’s name as he peaked. “ _ Negan, Negan, N-” _

Negan swallowed his cries in his mouth as Rick’s whole body tightened around him like a vise. Rick’s vision faded to black for a breathless moment with the intensity of it, and when he drifted back down, he was held tightly in Negan’s arms, wetness dripping down his belly and inner thighs.

He didn’t have to ask Negan to stay the night this time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're nearing the end of the road here! Right now it's looking like chapter 18 will be the last chapter. Thanks so much to everyone who's stuck with this and read for this long, I appreciate you all so much!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second-to-last chapter!! I can't believe it's almost over, it's gonna be sad for me to walk away from this story. I also finally put this in a series rather than slapping a link to the truth in the summary, wooo
> 
> Warning for some homophobic comments.

“Je- _ sus _ , I am out of fucking practice with this shit! You know what we’re missing at the Sanctuary, Arat? A fucking treadmill. I can sling Lucille around like a big swinging dick all the live-long, but you tell me I’ve gotta outrun those deadie fuckers for a good mile? I’m sweating my ass off. It’s probably cold enough to snow, and I’m fucking drenched.” Negan collapsed into the passenger seat while Arat started up the van.

“Maybe,” she replied in her usual deadpan way, “if you hadn’t gone charging into that place when you knew a group of them was right on our asses, we wouldn’t have had to run so far.”

“It was fucking worth it, I’m not complaining about that. Just…fuck. Am I outta shape, Arat? Be honest. I mean, I’m no spring chicken, but I think I’m doing alright over here. I think I've still fucking got it.”

Arat humored him and spared him a moment’s glance. “I’m not really the best person to ask.”

Negan snorted as they began to drive. “Guess fucking not.” He slid one hand into his jacket pocket, fingering over the object that he’d charged into the shop to retrieve. Arat noticed the movement and cleared her throat.

“What the hell did you have to get out of a jewelry shop, anyway?”

Negan withdrew his hand, a single silver wedding band held between his fingers. “This.”

Arat gave him an odd, searching look before returning her eyes to the road. “For Rick?”

Negan had noticed the first time he’d visited Rick in Alexandria that his wedding band no longer adorned his finger. He hadn’t brought it up with Rick yet, but he knew that its sudden absence wasn’t an accident- Rick had kept it safe and secure for so long, he just knew that he hadn’t somehow lost it. Given the circumstances, he took it as a good sign- one indicating that Rick was open to something new and serious with him.

And then he’d given Negan the gift of those three words last week, and Negan knew: Rick wasn’t fucking around with this. Rick wasn’t placating him to make sure the transition into the new world order went smoothly, or trying him out until he could find someone better suited for himself- he  _ loved _ Negan.

As much as Negan would love to keep considering himself and Rick properly married, he knew Rick probably didn’t see it that way. It had been a marriage of circumstance, one without rings or vows or affection behind it. Negan didn’t regret it for a second, but as he rolled the silver band between his fingers, he thought that maybe, one day down the line, he could make it into something real.

“Yeah,” he answered, smiling to himself. “It’s for Rick.”

* * *

It had been peaceful in Alexandria for what felt like ages, though Rick knew that they were just barely pushing three months. There had been so much progress made in such a short time, though, that it felt much longer. Their greenhouse was mostly constructed, a new watchtower along the back wall had been built, and people were beginning to come around to him again. Rosita’s rage toward him seemed to had ebbed, though he still caught darkened glares thrown Negan’s way when he came by to visit- which was rather often.

Some nights he stayed, some nights he didn’t. Rick didn’t want to push his luck with either Negan or Carl on the matter, but if it were up to him, Negan would be spending most every night in his bed. Part of it was the loneliness that came with him being gone, of course- he knew that it was needy of him that just a night or two away from Negan left him aching for touch, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always been one to get attached quickly, craving affection from the people he loved. He liked having someone curled around him while he slept, liked waking up to Negan’s warm breath on his neck, liked eating breakfast together, him and Negan and Judith and, most mornings, even Carl.

There was a small, selfish part of him that longed to ask Negan to just  _ stay _ . He nearly had once, when one evening Negan had been moody and frustrated and complaining about how little he had to do at the Sanctuary anymore.

“Wouldn’t you fucking know it, Rick, the place practically runs itself. There’s not as many people there now, since a handful moved to the other communities, and anything that needs sorting out is usually taken care of before I even hear about it. I’ve been helping with the farming some, doing what you’ve been showing me while I’m here, but shit. Feel fucking useless,” he’d said.

_ So stay here with me _ , Rick had wanted to say back.  _ You’re always talking about how much you like it here. You say that you miss me. Just stop leaving. _

It wasn’t that simple though, and Rick knew it. For all Negan complained about having nothing to do, he knew what he’d be asking Negan to give up if he left the Sanctuary for good- the last remnants of his power, and freedom from both Rick and the people of Alexandria who hadn’t fully warmed up to him yet. So Rick let the possibility linger in the back of his mind, thinking  _ maybe one day _ .

Despite Negan not being around as much as Rick wanted him to be, things were good- so good that when Spencer accosted Rick on his way to let Negan in the front gate one blustery winter morning, he didn’t expect what was coming.

Spencer grabbed Rick’s shoulder roughly, jerking him around to glare down at him. Rick tipped his face up at the taller man to meet his angry gaze evenly. “There a problem, Spencer?”

Spencer gave a disgusted jerk of his head toward the gate. “Look, Rick, I get it. You’re taking it up the ass from him. You’ve gone all soft and limp-wristed. But that doesn’t mean the rest of us should have to put up with him. If you can’t stand to be away from his dick, just go live with him. You obviously  _ really _ liked doing that before.”

_ Deep breaths. Don’t lose it. That’s not going to get you anywhere. _

“You really want to do this? Right now?” Rick forced the words out from between gritted teeth, willing himself to not take the bait.

Spencer sneered down at him. “Yeah, I do, actually. Ever since you decided you liked dick, everything’s been going to shit for all of us. Ooh, congratulations, Rick, you got yourself a  _ boyfriend _ to slut around with!” He spat the word like a curse and Rick felt his whole body seize up, fists clenched tight at his sides ready to throw a good punch and knock Spencer’s teeth clean out of his head. “Meanwhile, the rest of us back here were getting our shit stolen every few weeks, because you couldn’t be bothered to strike up a decent deal with them when you could’ve. You just sat back and let everyone here get screwed over, while you got screwed.”

“That’s how you see all of this?” Rick snapped, “You think I  _ wanted _ any of this to happen? You think I wanted Glenn and Abraham to die? There was no deal to be made, Spencer. The Saviors had a flat rate of half everyone’s supplies across multiple communities. They killed people every time to make their point.” He could hear himself saying ‘they’ instead of ‘Negan’, as if trying to distance the man from everything that happened- an impossible task. “It wouldn’t have mattered if we’d made that deal a month earlier. The outcome would have been the same.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you? You’d like to think that there was nothing you could have done to stop any of it.”

_ You ungrateful little _ \- Rick bit his tongue and swallowed his tirade, choosing his words more carefully. “I did everything I fucking could to stop it. I gave myself up, married Negan, so Alexandria’s burden would be as light as possible.”

“Yeah, and that wasn’t much of a punishment for you, was it?” Spencer jeered. “You loved it there so much you bent right over for him. You’re an embarrassment of a leader. How anyone here can still respect you after finding out you’re letting him fuck you is beyond me.”

“Maybe they’re smart enough to realize that who I’m fucking isn’t really relevant to my ability to lead,” Rick snapped, feeling his face heat up at Spencer’s words and hating himself for it.

“Oh, I think it’s pretty relevant when the guy fucking you is the one taking our shit!”

“He’s not taking our shit anymore!” Rick shouted. “And if it wasn’t for me fucking him, we’d be in the middle of a goddamn war! Who knows how many people we’d have lost, or if we would have won at all.”

“We could have won. As long as you weren’t in charge. We were better off when you were gone. We could have actually gotten shit done without you here screwing everything up and getting people killed. Your son was better off with you gone. It must have been pretty traumatic for him to get his father back and then have to see how you’ve been whoring yourself out to the enemy.”

At the mention of Carl, Rick turned on his heel and resumed his path toward the gate. He was getting too angry, his throat dry and hands shaking, and if he had to hear Spencer tell him that he was a shitty father to Carl, he was going to snap.

_ Just fucking ignore him. _

“So, Rick, how’d it all go down?” Spencer called out after him. “Did you just lay back and spread your legs for him like the whore you are, or did he have to force you the first few times?”

Rick saw red and the short rope of his patience ran out. He spun on his heel, ducked his head and tackled Spencer onto the street, shoulder slamming into the other man’s diaphragm and knocking the wind clean out of him.

Fists flew as they exchanged punches, Spencer striking out at him between receiving blows to the face and ribs. Spencer managed to shake Rick off and land a few blows before Rick got him on the ground again, a feral yell ripping out of his throat. He was vaguely aware of something warm and wet running down his face and into his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Did I strike a nerve,  _ Rick _ ?” Spencer spat his name venomously, “Did he have to force you a couple times until you just started liking it?”

“He didn’t fucking force me,” Rick growled as he sank his knuckles into Spencer’s jaw.

“So you just offered yourself up to him? You’re pathetic. I can’t believe that these people just let you come back here and start acting like the leader again! If I was in charge-”

Rick laughed a mocking sound that he’d heard come out of Negan’s mouth more times than he could count.

“You think you could have done a better job? I’d love to see that! Your people didn’t know  _ shit _ before we got here! If the Saviors had come rolling up to the gate, you would have rolled right over! If there was even anything left of this place after the Wolves, after the herd. You ungrateful bastard, you don’t even realize how many times we’ve saved your asses just by bein’ here! You didn’t have what it takes to fight-” Rick felt himself being grabbed under the arms and hauled off of Spencer right as he raised his arm for another blow. He was dragged backwards several feet and into the grass before one of his arms was released. Rick glanced up and saw Negan moving away from him and toward Spencer, yanking him to his feet and putting a hand to his chest to keep him from charging Rick.

“What the hell, Rick?” Michonne murmured in his ear, keeping a tight hold on him like she thought he would lunge again. “You’re making me haul you off of someone in the street  _ again _ ?”

Rick breathed heavily, the red haze clearing from his vision as the adrenaline wore off.

“That fucking psycho attacked me! And you’re going to have his  _ boyfriend _ come try to keep me in line?  _ Seriously _ ?” Spencer yelled, smacking Negan’s arm away.

“Either of you want to explain what the problem is?” Michonne asked, voice firm but calm. She didn’t seem overly upset about Rick beating the shit out of Spencer- probably because she’d spent enough time around Spencer to know that he’d likely done something to deserve it.

Spencer spit a mouthful of blood at Negan’s feet. “The problem is that Rick decided to invite this maniac to hang around here just so he could be a little  _ fucktoy _ -”

Negan was on Spencer before he could get another word out slamming him back on the ground and pinning him by the throat, knee settling into his gut. “What  _ the fuck _ did you just say about him?” Negan shouted, face going red. For a single moment, Rick was suspended in a cloud of horror, thinking that this was it, Negan was going to kill Spencer in the middle of Alexandria and all of the progress he’d made with the people here would be for nothing.

“Shit.” Michonne hissed, releasing Rick and lunging to grab Negan, prying him off of Spencer by the collar of his jacket before he could get more than a single rage-filled strike in.

“Are you an idiot? Tell me, I really need to know- are you  _ stupid _ , Negan?” she barked, “I don’t think I need to tell you why you laying a hand on him is a bad idea.”

“I feel bad for you, Michonne,” Spencer gritted out as he sat up in the grass, “having to watch Rick switch teams for that piece of shit.”

Negan lunged again, and Michonne tackled him to the ground, swearing.

Spencer laughed. “You know, I never would have pegged you as the type to be into dick, Rick. You seemed like a real man’s man when you first showed up. And you used to be so into women. Jessie, Michonne…really, you’d give all that up for this asshole?”

“It’s called being bisexual you homophobic piece of shit,” Negan growled, thankfully staying seated in the grass this time. Michonne grabbed him by the collar, hauling him to his feet and pushing him toward Rick.

“Both of you need to walk away from this. Right now.” She turned to Spencer, her eyes glittering with open distaste. “You, too. Get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you anywhere near either of them. Go to the infirmary and have Tara take a look at you.”

Spencer stormed away, muttering unkindly under his breath, and Michonne pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing deeply before turning to the two of them. “Come on. Let’s get you fixed up. And you can tell me what the hell just happened here.”

* * *

Rick sat at his kitchen table, bloodied hands in his lap.

“You want to explain?” Michonne asked, staring pointedly at him. She looked exasperated but not particularly angry, most likely because she’d been dealing with Spencer the last several months while Rick had been away, and understood that the odds were strong that Spencer had brought the attack on himself. So Rick said exactly that.

“He deserved it.” He didn’t feel like pretending to be apologetic when he wasn’t. What Spencer had said to him was disgusting, all of it- the thought of him saying things like that to  _ Carl _ while he’d been gone made him want to charge outside and get a few more licks in.

Michonne pulled a small first aid kit out from a cabinet, smirking seemingly in spite of herself. “Yeah, I worked that part out for myself. But I thought after the last time you would have realized that jumping people in the middle of the street and causing a scene isn’t the best way to handle things.”

“Wait, hold up,” Negan said, putting a hand on the back of Rick’s chair. He’d been lingering behind Rick since they’d trudged inside, like a protective leather-clad specter. “ _ The last time? _ He’s beaten the shit out of people in the streets before? How have I not heard this fucking story?”

Michonne ignored him. “All I’m saying is that this wasn’t a great way to show people like him that you’re still a competent leader. He’s pissed. A lot of people still are. Rosita’s doing her best to deal with it, but it’s going to take her a long time to be okay with seeing Negan here. I don’t even want to think about how Maggie and Sasha are feeling right now. As much as I miss them, I’m thankful they’re not here, because I can only imagine what they’d have to say about…” Her eyes jumped up to Negan for a moment, then back to Rick, “About everything that’s going on.”

Rick looked down at his hands. He really didn’t know what to say to that. Spencer…Spencer was one thing. Spencer’s anger toward him was nothing new. It had been present long before everything with Negan. But Maggie? Sasha? Rosita? Those people were his friends, his family. And their issue with him was entirely because of Negan. He knew that things were getting better- Maggie had welcomed him to the Hilltop, and while there’d been a lingering cloud of tension when he’d visited with her and Sasha and Aaron, they seemed to be healing. He should have  _ known _ that feelings like this were always lurking right under the surface of everyone’s hopeful attitudes.

Michonne sighed and gently cupped Rick’s chin in her fingers, tilting his face up to inspect the damage. “Just a few cuts. Nothing major, you won’t need stitches.” She pulled a bottle of antiseptic and some bandages out of the first aid kit and held them out to Negan. “I have to go try to smooth things over with Spencer so he doesn’t do something else stupid when he gets out of the infirmary. Can I trust you to take care of him?”

Rick anticipated a snarky comment from Negan about how often he “took care” of Rick, but it didn’t come. Instead, Negan just took the supplies from Michonne and said, “Yeah, of course,” so sincerely that it took Rick by surprise.

It seemed to surprise Michonne, too, because she looked at him for a long moment, a curious expression on her face, before she turned and left.

Negan slid into the seat beside Rick, grabbing antiseptic out of the kit on the table. “So what made you snap?”

“What do you mean?” Rick asked, tilting his head up to allow Negan to look him over with gently prodding fingers. “You heard the shit he was saying.”

“Yeah,” Negan muttered darkly, scowling. “I did. But you don’t seem like the kind of guy that would lose his shit over a sack of pencil dicks making a couple douchey comments about you. So what made you lose it?”

Rick rubbed a thumb over his split knuckles, smearing the drying blood there. “He brought Carl into it. Said he was…said he was better off before I came back, that it must have been hard to realize I’d been  _ whoring myself out to the enemy _ .” Rick’s mouth twisted into a disgusted grimace around the words.

Negan looked ready to go back outside and drag Spencer back onto the ground and finish what Rick had started. “He said that to you? Shit, Rick…you know that’s an absolute load of horseshit, right? Carl’s a tough fucking cookie. He’s dealing with everything better than most of the people here. And no kid’s better off without their dad. Not when they’ve got a dad like you. He may not be thrilled about me bein’ around all the fucking time, but he’s glad you’re back here. Doesn’t take much to see that.”

Rick felt his throat get thick at Negan’s surprisingly kind words about his parenting.

“That’s why you hit him, then?” Negan asked, dabbing at the blood on Rick’s face with a wet cloth.

“No. I mean, that was part of it, but I was gonna walk away. I was. But then he…he accused you of raping me. Asked if I just bent over for you or if you had to force me a few times until I liked it.”

Negan’s face was unreadable.

“I shut him down,” Rick said quickly, remembering how much accusations like that pissed Negan off. “Told him that wasn’t what happened. I think he got the message.” Rick grinned awkwardly around a split lip at his attempt at humor. Negan’s face didn’t change.

“You defended me,” he said, voice tight as he pressed the antiseptic-soaked rag to the cuts on Rick’s face. Rick gritted his teeth at the sting.

“Yeah. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. You made a pretty bad first impression with everyone, you know. I’ve gotta talk you up. You should pay me for all the free advertising you get,” he joked, frowning when Negan still didn’t laugh.

“You beat up some asshole in the street for me.”

Rick looked down at his hands again, wondering if he should be feeling guiltier than he was. “Yeah.”

A smile tugged at Negan’s mouth. “You got in there and defended my fucking honor. My knight in shining armor.”

Rick laughed, wincing at how it tugged at the cut on his lip. “Fuck you.”

Negan finished pressing bandages to Rick’s face and looked at the split lip for a moment before leaning in and brushing his lips against Rick’s gently. “Thank you.”

Rick felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. “You’re welcome.”

* * *

“Dad!”

Negan watched Rick’s head snap up to see his son charging through the front door, dropping his bag in the entryway by Michonne’s feet and making a beeline for his father, who admittedly looked a little worse for wear.

“Carl,” Rick answered, reaching out for his son with love in his eyes. “You alright? Did everything go okay on your trip?” Carl’s increasingly frequent visits to the Hilltop were a subject of worry for Rick- every night that Carl wasn’t home he would ask Negan to stay with him, and Negan knew it wasn’t just so they could be a little louder in bed. Rick, overprotective and nurturing as he was, hated seeing his boy grow up, and more than once he’d expressed worry that Carl would want to move to the Hilltop permanently one day.

“I’m fine, dad. They’re doing a good job clearing the roads. I was worried about you. What happened? Michonne said-”

Rick looked a little embarrassed, waving his son’s concern off. “It’s nothin’. Spencer and I just had a little disagreement.”

Negan snorted derisively under his breath, and Carl’s eyes flicked over to him for a moment before returning to roam over Rick’s battered face. “Doesn’t look like nothing.”

“Well, it’s over now,” Rick said, rubbing absently at his bruised jaw. “At least, I sure hope it is. You don’t think he’d try to-” Rick asked Michonne, his words trailing off. Negan could fill them in well enough for himself:  _ you don’t think he’d try anything stupid to hurt one of us, do you? _

The thought made Negan want to snatch up Lucille and go stomping from door to door until he found Spencer so he could stop anything like that from ever happening. The thought of that man doing something,  _ anything _ , to Rick caused a hot swell of anger to rise in his chest.

_ Nobody touches him. Nobody hurts what’s mine. _

“I don’t know. I want to say he wouldn’t be that reckless, but I can’t say for sure. I  _ can _ say this, though- if he tries anything, he’d be on his own. There may be people who aren’t thrilled with Negan walking free, but they also know that this whole time of peace was because of what you did, Rick. When Spencer gets back, I’ll take a few people and talk to him.”

“Back?” Negan asked, not liking that they weren’t keeping close tabs on the asshole that had attacked Rick. “Where the fuck did he go?”

“Tara said he came by and Rosita went with him on a scavenging trip to blow off steam,” Michonne answered evenly.

_ Maybe he won’t fucking come back _ Negan thought darkly, not a hint of remorse. There were things that he didn’t care for when it came to Rick’s style of leadership, and this was one of them- letting pricks like Spencer walk around scot-free just because they were a part of the group.

Against all instincts, he held his tongue.

* * *

Spencer didn’t come back.

Rosita did, later that evening looking bloody and shattered with puffy eyes. Rick met her at the gate with Michonne, Negan, and Carl trailing behind him, the same question on all of their tongues. 

“Fucking idiot tried to take on too many of them,” Rosita stated calmly. To anyone else, her tone would have sounded uncaring, but Rick could hear the conflicted grief beneath it. “I don’t know if he was trying to show off or prove something or what, but I just barely managed to drag his ass out of there.” Her eyes were hard when she looked up at Rick, but there was something else there, too- something he couldn’t quite get a read on. “Got himself bitten. I already took care of it. He’s in the back of the car.”

Rick caught onto Negan’s disbelieving stare when he helped Rosita and Michonne carry Spencer’s body to the graveyard behind the church, when he helped dig the grave, when he stood by Rosita’s side as she threw out a few almost angry-sounding words for his eulogy. Negan could disapprove all he wanted, and there was a part of Rick that stood with him, selfishly relieved that Spencer wouldn’t be around to spew more hate at him, but he wasn’t doing this for Spencer. 

Rick waved Negan off after the quiet funeral had ended, squeezing his forearm before pulling away. “Give me a minute. I want to talk to Rosita.”

She was standing beside the fresh mound of earth that was Spencer’s grave, looking wholly conflicted. She didn’t waver when Rick came to stand beside her, not looking up. 

“I know he was an asshole,” she said plainly. “The shit he said about you- I know that he was hard on you, Rick. I was, too. And we shouldn’t have been, not like that. Fuck, he’s proof that I don’t have the best taste in men, either. But you’ve got to understand- I was fucking pissed. For a long time, I was pissed. Not just at you, either. At everyone, at anyone who tried to help me. Even Tara- and god knows she didn’t do a damn thing to deserve it. I don’t know why she still loves me after-” 

To Rick’s surprise, he caught Rosita swiping away tears off her cheeks out of the corner of his eye. “Fuck,” she muttered, self-deprecating laughter undercutting her words, “I don’t know what my problem is. I shouldn’t be shedding a single tear for this asshole. I’ve known for a while that he wasn’t the kind of guy I should be throwing in with. And after today…” she sighed. “I shouldn’t care. I don’t, really. Not like I would have a couple months ago. I’m just sick of losing people. Even guys like him.”

Rick tentatively placed a hand on her shoulder, wondering for a moment if he was going to get brushed off. Rosita surprised him, though, reaching up to cover his hand with her own. “I don’t agree with the shit he said about you. Not the shit today, not the shit he’d been saying before that. I was pissed when I found out about you and Negan, and I don’t like having him here. But I don’t want to hold that against you forever.”

It was something- it was hope, a white flag waved between them, and that was enough for Rick.

* * *

There was something about Alexandria that Negan truly adored, and it wasn’t just the blue-eyed man who held his heart captive there. It was something else- the cozy homes that people nestled in together like real families, the paved streets where children ran and played and people walked in tandem, happily chattering away. It was the lush green of the trees and the sturdy kitchen that he cooked meals in and the rocking chairs on Rick’s front porch that he’d fallen asleep in more than once while rocking steadily back and forth with Rick and Judith. Being in Alexandria made him feel almost like he was a part of something real for the first time since Lucille, even if Rick was the only one who made him feel that way.

He’d seen it starting to happen in small doses at the Sanctuary- people that had previously come seeking refuge together had begun to become more closely knit again, friendships and familial forming now that people weren’t worked to the bone and living in fear. Seeing that now, the change at the Sanctuary and the way Alexandria was- it did awaken guilt in him.  _ Everything’s working _ , he realized.  _ Everything could have been working like this all along, if you’d had someone with enough balls to tell you ‘no’ years ago. _

Of course, selfishly, he was glad that Rick had ended up being the one to make him change.

Rick was sitting in the rocking chair beside him now, Judith sleeping soundly in his strong arms, curled against his chest. She wasn’t the only one who’d conked right out, either- Negan had been rambling on for a good five minutes about how hard it had been to find the shit to grow the strawberries he’d promised Amber before he’d glanced up to see Rick fast asleep, his full lips slightly parted on soft breaths.

He’d spent the next ten minutes just watching the two of them sleep with something like adoration blooming thick and sweet in his chest. He wasn’t sure how late it was- in early winter like this, the evening quickly turned into a deep, inky blue indiscernible from midnight. It was awfully cold though, and while Rick was surely keeping his daughter plenty warm, Negan was feeling the chill beneath his jacket.

Gently, tentatively, he took the sleeping girl from Rick’s arms, mimicking the way Rick had held her and keeping her close to his chest. She only stirred enough to settle against him, and he took her inside and upstairs, tucking her carefully into her crib like he’d watched Rick do numerous times before.

“Sweet dreams, darlin’,” he whispered, smoothing down her unruly blonde curls with one hand. She was so warm, so small, but even he had noticed the way she’d grown lately.  _ They grow fast at this age _ , Rick had said with a touch of wistful sadness in his eyes, no doubt thinking about Carl’s early days and how different they had been.

He liked Judith’s room- how small and whimsical it was, picturesque in its innocence, ripped straight out of a simpler time. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to think back on Lucille while he was sober, melancholy tainting the edges of what had once been happy, hopeful memories.

“Lucille and I, we used to walk through baby stores looking at stuff like this,” Negan whispered, letting his memories lie with the sleeping child. “Cribs and baby toys and shit- sorry. She wanted kids so bad, had their names picked out and everything. Jackie for a girl, Wilson for a boy, she always said. Don’t know where those came from, but she loved ‘em, so I loved ‘em.” He sighed, forearms resting on the side of the crib while his head bowed. “I always had an excuse not to start a family. Guess that’s just one more way I let her down.”

He slid one hand into the pocket that he knew held the ring he always carried with him. It was stupid to keep it on him like that, he knew- it could get lost or Rick could find it before he was ready, but he liked having it there. Sometimes, when he was away from Rick, he caught himself reaching into the pocket and turning the ring over between his fingers like it was already a part of Rick grounding him and keeping him sane.

“I’m not gonna let your daddy down like I let Lucille down,” he vowed in a soft murmur. “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life makin’ things up to him.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

Rick’s soft voice coming out of the dark behind him nearly made Negan jump out of his skin, and he jerked his hand out of the pocket, zipping it closed again. “Shit, baby. Nearly gave me a fuckin’ heart attack sneakin’ up on me like that.”

Rick’s strong arms slid around his waist, and Negan felt the press of his cheek against the back of his jacket. “Sorry. Wasn’t tryin’ to sneak. I woke up and you and Judy were gone. I’ve been up here for a minute.”

Negan huffed a half-laugh, half-sigh, covering Rick’s cold hands with his own warm ones. “So you heard all that shit?”

“Yeah,” Rick murmured. He turned Negan with a hand on his forearm, drawing him away from the sleeping girl. “C’mon. Don’t wanna wake her up.”

They walked down the hall and Rick closed the door to his bedroom-  _ their _ bedroom? Negan wondered- before beginning to strip off his clothes. Negan eyed his newly bared skin hungrily, shedding his jacket over the armchair in the corner and following Rick’s lead in stripping down to his boxers and undershirt and crawling into bed. He pulled Rick close as they buried themselves beneath the warmth of blankets, and he smiled at how the smaller man gratefully nuzzled into the warmth of his chest.

“You don’t have to make anything up to me, Negan,” he said quietly, lips soft against Negan’s throat. “I don’t want you to- I don’t know. Spend your life thinkin’ I’m holding a grudge.”

“Aren’t you?” Negan asked bitterly, surprising even himself at the edge in his voice. Rick stiffened in his arms before drawing him down with a hand on the side of his face.

“No, I’m not. You can’t change what happened with Glenn and Abraham. I’m not going to pretend I’ll ever be okay with them bein’ gone. But I’m not going to spend my life holding it over you. I’m  _ not _ , Negan.”

Negan let out a shaky breath, Rick’s words giving him more comfort than he’d thought possible. He pressed kisses to Rick’s forehead, his temple, feeling him curl more closely around him.

“I love you,” he whispered, taking Rick’s hand and kissing each knuckle, lingering on the bare one that used to bear a wedding band. “What was she like?” he asked. “Your wife. Lori.”

Rick smiled, soft and sad. “She was…she was strong. Protective, loving, affectionate. Never one to back down from somethin’. She supported me, even when it was hard on her, even when she wasn’t sure herself if I was doin’ the right thing…she had my back when other people started questioning me.”

Negan watched at Rick’s throat bobbed, swallowing hard, his fingers pressing into the corners of his eyes. “She wasn’t perfect.  _ We _ weren’t perfect. I already told you about…about her and my friend Shane. The last few months she was alive, I was horrible to her. Blamed her for things I shouldn’t have, things that weren’t her fault, things she was tryin’ to make up for. I was in a bad place, had to make some tough calls, and I saw how she started looking at me after, like she wasn’t quite sure who I was anymore, and it…it scared the hell out of me. Because  _ I _ wasn’t sure who I was anymore, not then, and seein’ that in her made me feel that much worse. And me, I’ve never been one to talk things out. That was our problem, even before the world ended, that we couldn’t communicate. And she’d try to talk to me, try to reach out, and I could see how lonely she was, how much she hated that distance between us, and I just kept that wall up anyway. Right up til’ the end. It was only after that I…that I wanted to try. That I realized it was too late to put things back together.”

Rick’s eyes looked wet in the low light, and Negan squeezed him a little tighter. “We’ve all done shit we’re not proud of.”

“What about Lucille?” Rick asked shakily. “What was she like? Must have had the patience of a saint to put up with you.”

Negan laughed, low and rumbling. “Goddamn right she did. That woman was a gift to this world. She was no saint, though. No, she was a dirty fucking girl. She kept my ass in line, had this lust for life that kept me on my toes.” He squeezed his eyes closed, guilt washing over him. He hated thinking about it, but Rick had opened up about his mistakes with Lori, so he felt a strange obligation to be just as transparent. “I was a piece of shit husband, though,” he admitted. “I fucking…I cheated on her. No excuses, no reason. Our relationship wasn’t perfect , but it was good, you know? Nothing’s ever perfect, but she was the best goddamned woman for me, and I did it anyway. Just because the fucking opportunity presented itself. She knew, too. She fucking knew, and she stayed with me anyway. I didn’t even…I didn’t even break it off until she was diagnosed.”

Negan felt Rick’s hand slide up the back of his shirt, rubbing warm, soothing circles between his shoulderblades. “She must have thought there was something about you worth keeping around. Even for all the trouble, all the pain.”

Rick’s words were a knife, sharp and precise, straight to the gut. He heard the double meaning in Rick’s words, as unbelievable as they were coming out of his mouth:  _ You’re worth all of this, Negan. I’m with you because I think you’re worth the pain you cause me. _

He found that as hard to believe as when Lucille had kept him around.

And under it all, he hated that he had caused Rick pain. He knew he had, of course. Everything they were had started with him causing Rick pain: ripping him from his home, his family, the woman he loved. He’d killed two of his friends, and even though they could tally their losses and Negan would come out with the short end of the stick, he knew that the pain from the two people Negan had killed far outweighed the pain Negan felt over the loss of his many soldiers. Because that was the kind of man Rick was: he cared. He really fucking  _ cared _ , and for some unknown reason, Negan had become one of the lucky people Rick cared about. He wasn’t sure he’d ever understand why, but he was, and he didn’t want to take one second for granted anymore, didn’t want to cause the man beside him any more grief than he already had. For as long as Rick would have him, he would try to be a better man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost, almost posted this without adding in Spencer's death. I was worried it'd come off as too...I don't even know. Too predictable, too much of a wish fulfillment thing. But then I was like, "It's fanfiction, it's all wish fulfillment, if you can't put what you want in here, where the hell are you gonna put it?" Also I've barely killed anyone and that needed to be remedied, so here we are. 
> 
> Strangely, I feel the same way about the line where Negan calls Rick bisexual. Probably because I know they'd never actually use that word on the show, but fuck it. If it seems ooc for him to outright say that, it's not gonna kill anybody.


	18. The End + Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. This is like saying goodbye to The Truth all over again for me. Never in a million years when I started writing that fic last fall for fun did I think I'd get to this point but...here we are! Thank you thank you a million times thank you to all you guys that read and commented and left kudos, it means more than you know. This story has meant so much to me and opened the door to meeting and befriending so many people in this fandom and I can't say how much it's helped me though the past year. 
> 
> Also, biggest shout out and thank you ever to Renchaos, who so kindly beta read every chapter for me. It's been a massive help and I feel much more secure knowing that this isn't full of a million typos that I managed to overlook. (I read through and edited each chapter of The Truth like...3 times before posting, and I still find typos in there lmao.)
> 
> This is the end. Hope you like it!

Negan woke up absolutely freezing his ass off despite the warmth of Rick’s body beside his own. He squeezed his eyes closed against the muted light streaming into the room, drawing the blankets up around his chin and cuddling in closer to Rick, curling his heat-starved body around his lover’s bare back. Rick shivered, startling awake and withdrawing further into himself like he felt the cold too, and Negan rolled him over and pulled him into his chest, intertwining their legs.

“Mm,” Rick hummed sleepily, “g’morning. How’d you-  _ fuck! _ ” he jerked away with a horrified look, glaring accusingly at Negan. “You sleep with your feet in ice or somethin’? Christ.”

Negan pawed at him, wanting to close the space between them that was letting frigid air invade the warmth of their bed. “Come back here, Rick. Pretty fucking please? Jesus, it’s colder than that glare of yours, baby. Don’t you have a heater in this fucking Barbie dream house?”

Rick tentatively let himself be folded back into Negan’s arms, and Negan rubbed his hands down Rick’s bare back in contrition. “Probably. Haven’t really had the need for it yet- been tryin’ to conserve energy in case it snows or somethin’.” He nosed against Negan’s stubbly jaw, kissing at his throat. “Maybe you could warm me up a different way?”

Rick’s voice was a low, sultry rumble that Negan was helpless to resist, and he was rolling on top of Rick in an instant, blanketing him with his body and covering him in hunger-filled kisses across his chest and up the side of his neck. Rick sighed happily beneath him, legs spreading to fit Negan between and curving loosely around his waist. “Mm, Rick,” Negan murmured in between reverent kisses, his mouth closing briefly around one stiffening nipple, his tongue flicking out to tease and make Rick’s back arch needily off the mattress, wordlessly begging for more. “I’m gonna warm you right up, baby. Get you nice and fucking toasty.” He felt Rick’s cock beginning to thicken between their bellies, pleading for attention he was only too happy to give. He kissed up to Rick’s lips as he slid a hand down to rub a warm palm up the shaft, and Rick hummed appreciatively into Negan’s mouth.

“Want a day in bed with you,” Rick confessed in a rumbling purr that sent licks of flame over Negan’s skin. “Want-  _ ooh, baby, yes, just like that _ \- want you to fuck me ‘til I can’t take anymore, and then I’ll take you for a spin-”

Negan growled, hips jerking up to rub his growing erection against Rick’s own, fiercely enjoying Rick’s filthy mouth and the melodious moan he let loose in response. He slid his hands beneath Rick, smirking at the way his lover squirmed and tried to regain the lost friction by rutting his hips up against his belly. He found his ass, cupping and squeezing and bowing over him to lap at the sensitive spot just above his collarbone, thinking that a day in bed fucking and being fucked by Rick sounded about as close to heaven as he would ever get-

“Dad! Dad, have you looked outside, did you see-  _ oh god! _ ” Carl’s strangely excited voice quickly turned to one of horror as he burst into the room to see his father wrapped around Negan.

The door slammed shut so quickly that Negan was surprised he didn’t hear the whistle of air in its wake. What he _did_ hear was Carl’s horrified cursing echoing through the upstairs hallway, traumatized  _ oh-my-god _ s and  _ why-why-why _ s that made him shake with breathless laughter. “That’s why we knock, kid!” He hollered back, and Rick groaned, heels sliding on the sheets, seeming caught between embarrassment and amusement.

“C’mon, get up,” Rick said, squirming out from underneath him, shivering and breaking out into goosebumps as the cool air caressed his bare skin. He groped on the floor for a pair of boxers, and if Negan was disappointed by the sudden change in mood he was temporarily appeased by the fact that they were his boxers that Rick tugged on as he walked over to the window. “Holy shit,” he breathed, sounding a little awestruck. “It snowed last night.”

Negan rolled his eyes, drawing the blankets back around himself. “Yeah, that fucking happens sometimes in the winter, Rick. Something about it gettin’ cold? Freezing points? Didn’t they teach you this shit where you’re from?” It suddenly struck him- where  _ was _ Rick from? His accent set him distinctly further south than Negan’s native Virginia, but he’d never thought to ask exactly where.

Rick began pulling on layers of clothes, much to Negan’s regret. “We didn’t get snow a lot in Georgia. Maybe once a year, at the most, and it was usually just a light dusting of it.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head, and Negan’s eyes followed the way his sex-and-sleep rumpled curls bounced with the movement. “They’d shut the whole damn state down over an inch of snow. Everybody runnin’ to the store to buy bread and milk like it was the end of the goddamned world.”

Negan snorted. “Were you one of those people, Rick?”

Rick grinned, zipping up his favorite brown jacket. “ _ Maybe _ . Just wanted to be prepared.” He tossed Negan a pair of jeans. “C’mon. I wasn’t expectin’ it to snow so much. Need to get the crops covered up.”

* * *

There was more snow on the ground than Rick had ever seen in his life- though, to be fair, he’d never experienced winter anywhere other than the deep south. He, Negan, and Carl worked frantically to salvage the crops that weren’t covered, and he counted himself lucky that Carl seemed to be repressing the memory of what he’d walked in on earlier instead of bringing it up accompanied by gagging noises like Rick had half-expected him to do.

The ground was hard and icy beneath their feet, and after they’d abandoned the garden, Rick spotted Daryl trooping through the snow with his face set in a frown.

“Didn’t think it was gonna get this damn cold so soon,” he grunted, jerking his shaggy head over at the front gate. “Gate’s frozen shut right now. Guess It started rainin’ last night and it froze over. Aaron an’ Jesus were plannin’ on comin’ down here, but they just radioed to say they’re holed up in some house an hour out ‘cause the road’s frozen slick.”

“They alright?” Rick asked, worried, and Daryl nodded, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder.

“Yeah. Said it’s pretty clear. Guess the dead like the cold ‘bout as much as we do. Probably pretty safe from them right now.”

“Yeah,” Negan chimed in, “the dead ones freeze right over in the winter like this. Move slower, and if it’s cold enough to freeze they’ll get frozen in place. It’s funny as shit.”

Rick watched curiously as Negan grinned at Daryl like he was waiting for something and Daryl stared blankly at Negan through his long hair.

“Guess you’re gonna be stuck here until it thaws a lil’ bit,” Daryl muttered in Negan’s direction. “’Less you wanna try your luck on the road.” His tone indicated that he’d be more than happy to see Negan try it, and Rick tensed, waiting for the ensuing fight.

It didn’t come, much to his surprise. Negan simply said, “Fucking great! I never fucking mind spending more time with Rick here-” and planted an obnoxiously loud kiss on Rick’s cheek while Daryl narrowed his eyes in what Rick could only assume to be disgust.

He walked away, though. Rick got the distinct impression that he was itching to flip Negan off as he did, but for now he seemed content to grumble to himself beneath his breath. Negan laughed a creaky, amused laugh as he watched Daryl leave, still holding Rick close. “You know, baby, I don’t think that guy fucking likes me. Not one goddamn bit.”

He didn’t sound the least bit perturbed about that, and Rick sighed, his breath coming out like fog. “Please. _Please_ , if you’re gonna be around for a while,  try to be civil.”

Negan reeled back, looking comically torn between mock offense and laughter. “Who, _me?_ Baby, I’m never anything but a perfect fucking gentleman. You don’t have to worry your pretty head about  _ me _ .”

* * *

To be fair, it wasn’t all Negan. It truly wasn’t, and maybe it would have been easier if it was.

The freezing rain continued nightly for a week, and by day three just about everyone in Alexandria was about ready to climb the walls. Everyone who was used to coming and going as they pleased, anyway. The second day, Daryl actually  _ did  _ go over the wall for a few hours to “get some air,” clearly not used to staying in one place for so long with little to do. Construction work was put on hold indefinitely, nobody wanted to try to fight with the dead batteries and frozen tanks of the cars or brave the iced-over roads to visit the other communities or go on scavenging trips, and Rick was thankful that they’d managed to get the greenhouse finished before this storm had rolled in.

Carl would have been perfectly content at home reading stacks of comics and playing video games with Tara and Michonne if it hadn’t been for the constant thorn in his side that was Negan’s presence. Rick had to hand it to his son- he and Negan managed to make it a full three days before they started wearing on each other’s nerves.

It wasn’t just Negan, and Rick knew it. He could see people’s frustrations with the cold coming to a head from miles away. People were packing together more tightly to conserve power, the solar panels soaking up a fraction of their usual sunlight due to constant hazy white clouds overhead. People were cold, they were frustrated and stepping all over each other, and it was only a matter of time before they started lashing out.

It only made sense that Negan was the one that caught the brunt of people’s anger when they snapped. Rick’s group had, of course, flocked together like birds and all stayed in one house- _his_ house- and that meant that they were feeling Negan’s presence more than ever.

The first day, Rick was over the moon at how well people got on- Negan didn’t start shit, people didn’t start shit with him, and having the majority of his friends under one roof didn’t feel crowded immediately. In fact, Rick found that he enjoyed it. He spent the day inside in the warmth, making sure everyone was fed and blanketed and had a place to lay their heads at night. He got to talk to everyone that he’d been feeling distant from lately- Michonne, Rosita, Tara, Eugene, Daryl, Gabriel.

They stayed awake until the small hours of the night, huddled together beneath blankets on Rick’s living room floor with a fire crackling in the fireplace, swapping stories and laughing. Negan stuck close to Rick’s side like a shadow, chuckling quietly against his hair with one hand on Rick’s hip.

The first day was good. He climbed the stairs with Negan by his side, slid into bed with him and they finished what they’d started that morning as quietly as they could, Negan’s hand clamped over Rick’s mouth as he worked him over, both of them trying to muffle moans with kisses, panting warm and open against each other’s lips.

* * *

Rick did his best to focus the brunt of his attention on Carl while they were all stuck together. He enjoyed the times that he and his son got to spend just the two of them, and for the most part, Carl seemed to be in a good mood when Rick asked him to come along to do a perimeter check along the wall to make sure the snow hadn’t weakened it, or to help him in the greenhouse. He knew it was likely because Carl just wanted an excuse to get out of the house for a while, but he’d take what he could get. He knew that it was only natural for his son to be growing more independent, but that didn’t mean it made it any easier to loosen his protective grip on the boy.

So when Carl said one day, so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal, “How would you feel if I wanted to move to the Hilltop?”, Rick didn’t know how to react.

“I- you want to…why?” He was a little ashamed of how hurt he sounded, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this was because of him allowing Negan to hang around Alexandria so much. “Is this because of Negan?”

Carl pulled a face. “What? No, dad. I was thinking about wanting to move there before I knew about…him. It’s for a lot of reasons. Enid’s there, and Maggie told me there’s still a lot of people there that don’t have much training, so I thought maybe I’d be more useful. There’s also this guy- Earl, I told you about him last time I came back- he's a blacksmith. Like, he makes weapons and stuff. He said that he’s always looking for people to teach, and I just thought it’d be cool to learn.”

Rick tried to swallow down his clingy, overprotective parental side for a moment. “I…I don’t know, Carl. It’s hours away to get to the Hilltop. I know that you’re…you’re growing up fast, and I’m so proud of you, but I don’t like the idea of you bein’ so far away.”

He could see the unsurprised disappointment on Carl’s face, and felt a twinge of guilt. “Could you…could you at least think about it? It’s not like I’d be moving there right away. I know it’s a big change, but…can you think about it, dad? Please?”

He looked so young and so grown all at once then, and Rick pulled him into his arms without a second thought, smoothing a hand over Carl’s long hair. “I don’t want you to go, Carl. But I know that I can’t keep you here forever. I want you to be happy, son. I’ll think about it, alright? I will. I just…” he swallowed hard, letting himself be vulnerable for a moment. “I just don’t want you to leave because of me.”

“It’s not because of you, dad,” Carl reassured him, sincerity clinging to every word. “I promise, it’s not. I’ll miss you so much if I go, but…I want to try anyway.”

Rick nodded, his heart light and heavy all at once. Than night, when he climbed into bed with Negan, all the heaviness came pouring out of him in the calm, still air between them.

“Carl wants to move to the Hilltop,” Rick whispered, and he could hear how lost he sounded. It made him sound like an old man, he thought- a sad old man clinging to the past and trying to hold on to a son that had been grown up for far longer than he would like to admit.

What he didn’t understand was why Negan sounded so miserable when he replied with a solemn, “I’m sorry.”

“Should’ve seen it comin’,” Rick murmured, feeling his throat get thick. He felt a sudden crushing ache of loneliness and loss that left him breathless and he grasped at Negan, pulling himself into the man’s chest and trying to steady himself with the man’s familiar scent. “Enid’s been there for so long, and I know how much he misses her. There’s nobody here his age anymore, and he’s never wanted to farm with me, not even back at the prison. Last time he came back all excited because this guy Earl’s a blacksmith- an actual blacksmith, can you believe that?” Rick choked out a teary laugh. “Said he’d like to do that, work with his hands, make something.”

“You gonna let him leave?” Negan asked mostly into Rick’s hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t want him to go,” Rick rasped, feeling his tears start to soak through Negan’s thin t-shirt. “But I also know it’s just a matter of time, you know?”

“Yeah,” Negan whispered, so quiet that Rick almost didn’t hear him. “I know.”

* * *

Three days in and the appeal of living under the same roof wore off entirely. Rick wondered how they’d spent so long on their own together before he remembered the camp back at Hershel’s farm, how he and Shane had constantly been at each other’s throats, Andrea and Dale’s fuming arguments, Carl’s rudeness and Lori’s annoyance and his own tense frustration.

Rick caught Negan sometimes giving dirty looks to the other people in the house, some more than others. It got on his nerves worse than anything else- they weren’t even  _ doing _ anything to him, not then, and Rick couldn’t fathom why Negan harbored such an intense distaste for his friends. He’d had his guesses- lingering resentment for everything that happened while they had been at war- and Negan had shot them down when he’d asked one night while they’d laid in the dark together.

_ “What? No. Fuck- I don’t hold that shit against them. They were tryin’ to survive. Same as anyone.” _

_ “Then what’s your problem? Looks to me like they’re givin’ you a pretty wide berth, unless I missed somethin’.” _

_ “You didn’t. Don’t fucking worry about it, Rick. It’s nothing.” _

It was the little things, really- Rick could see people’s patience wearing down to nothing before his eyes and was helpless to stop it. He’d known it was only a matter of time before Negan snapped- he was the first one people turned on, naturally, and there were only so many times he could brush off Rosita’s glares or Daryl’s mumbled curses or Carl’s decidedly teenage moodiness before he started lashing out.

It was unfortunate, really, that it had to be Tara it happened to. Tara and Gabriel were by far the most tolerant and forgiving of his presence. 

Rick learned pretty quickly that Negan liked to fuck off his frustration, and as a result he ended up wrapped around Negan on their bed or in the shower at least once a day. He didn’t mind as long as there was no risk of the others hearing it or walking in on them while Negan had him stuffed full and moaning. He knew they had pushed their luck on more than one occasion- blowing Negan in the greenhouse had been particularly risky, since Daryl had told them he’d be back in a few minutes- but Rick needed it about as much as Negan did by the sixth day. 

Day five had been rough: Rosita and Daryl had been at each other’s throats since the minute Rick had walked downstairs, god only knew what over; Carl had gotten his fill of Negan at that point and every second that he wasn’t holed up in his bedroom was spent sniping at Negan for being there, and Negan’s patience had run dry around day three, so he had plenty of antagonistic quips to lob Carl’s way. Judith had been fussy, demanding Rick and Tara’s full attention while they made sure she wasn’t getting sick, and even ever-patient Gabriel had exchanged some choice words by the day’s end.

Needless to say that Rick hadn’t had the time or energy to help Negan work off any frustration that day, so the next morning the man had been on top of him the moment he’d stirred awake, mouth moving wet and hungry over Rick’s throat as he’d ground his hips down into him.

“Rick.  _ Riick _ .” Negan’s voice was almost a whine, hardness pressing up against Rick’s belly. “C’mon. Quick one before people start wakin’ up. I fucking need it after yesterday, and I bet you do, too. C’mon, baby.”

Rick groaned, half-aroused and half-annoyed. “ _ Negan _ . Gotta go check on Judith first. Gotta make sure nobody’s up and that it didn’t get worse outside overnight.” He rolled out of bed and Negan followed, hands wandering as Rick tried to find something to wear. Everything in him ached to get back into bed and tangle himself around Negan, and the other man could _tell_ , could read the fine lines of Rick's arousal with just a quick brush of his fingers.

“Real quick, Rick. Can fuck you right up against this wall, baby.” He slid one arm around Rick’s waist and nudged him toward said wall as if to prove a point, and Rick flattened his palms against it on instinct.

“Negan-  _ Negan _ , we- I’ve gotta-  _ oh _ …” Rick’s resolve melted away like ice on a warm day when he felt Negan curve around him, kissing a sweet line down the back of his neck while one hand slid down the front of his boxers to tug at his rapidly swelling cock.

"You'd- _ah, baby_ \- you'd better make this quick..." he breathed, humming appreciatively. Not like there was anything so pressing that he couldn't take a few minutes to let off some steam.

It was a minute of pure, thoughtless bliss while Negan rocked up against his back and pushed Rick’s boxers halfway down his thighs, giving his length firm, insistent strokes that told Rick he was taking his word about making this quick rather seriously.

Tara walking in to inform them that, “Hey, Rick, the generator’s running low and-  _ oh shit! _ ” pretty much put an immediate damper on the mood.

Rick startled and jerked away while Negan froze, and the result was the back of Rick’s head slamming solidly into the taller man’s nose in his desperation to cover himself.

“What the fuck! What the absolute shitting  _ fuck _ , have you never fucking heard of knocking? You make it a fucking habit of barging in wherever the fuck you feel like?” Negan barked at a traumatized-looking Tara around his hands as he tried to staunch the flow of blood.

“Shit, sorry, I’ll-” Tara hastily made to leave, her wide eyes looking anywhere but at the two half-dressed men, but she had unfortunately already stomped out the last remaining embers of Negan’s patience.

“You’ll leave? Good, fucking good, how about  _ all _ of you leave? Jesus tap-dancing Christ, I don’t know why Rick puts up with you people all the goddamned time. I’d say maybe it’s because you’re all not giving him the same snotty-ass looks you give me, but that’s not fucking true, is it? _Yeah_ , that’s right. I’ve been here for five fucking days, and I’ve seen how you all look at him. Like you’re all so fucking perfect, like he didn’t save all your asses with what he did, you ungrateful bunch of fucking-”

“Negan!” Rick shouted, stepping in front of the man with a dangerous expression on his face. “Leave her alone. It was an accident, alright?”

Tara had fled the second Rick had intervened, but Negan was still seething, blood running in rivulets into his beard. For a moment, he looked about ready to start in on Rick, too. Rick held his breath, waiting for it- hadn’t this been what he’d expected to happen since Negan got stuck here? Longer, even?

The rage didn’t come. Instead, Negan heaved a few heavy, fuming breath before all the anger seemed to melt out of him, leaving something that looked alarmingly melancholy and resigned in its wake. Anxiety skittered across Rick’s mind, and he took Negan by the hand, leading him into the bathroom. “C’mon. Gotta clean you up, alright? Let me take a look.”

It wasn’t broken, thankfully- just a bit bruised. Negan’s eyes didn’t leave the floor while Rick cleaned him up, a sad, faraway look in his eyes that Rick was terrified to acknowledge.

“It’ll probably swell up a little. Been told I’ve got a pretty hard head,” Rick joked, trying to lighten the mood. When Negan didn’t even crack a smile, his stomach fluttered nervously. “Good thing we got plenty of ice right now.”

Still nothing.

He tried to brush it off. Negan had been cooped up with people who hated him for nearly a week, and that was bound to frustrate anybody.

“I’m gonna check on Judith, alright? Can you…look, what you did with Tara…that’s not alright, Negan. I know you know it’s not. But everybody’s been gettin’ on each other’s nerves, so I’m willing to chalk it up to that. I’d really appreciate if you apologized to her, though. You know she didn’t mean to walk in on us like that. Probably just about burned her eyes out of her skull seein’ us like that.”

“Right,” Negan said dully.

Rick frowned. “And the other shit you said, about them lookin’ at me funny? That’s not…it’s not for you to worry about, Negan. It’s gonna take time for me and them to be alright again. I get that. It’s not a big deal. I've talked to all of them, I know where we stand.”

He kissed the top of Negan’s head before he stepped out, feeling the man’s eyes on him as he walked away.

* * *

Judith’s bedroom was the one place in his house that was completely free of chaos, so Rick lingered there a while, cooing softly to his daughter. She was growing up fast, babbling in gibberish that was beginning to sound closer and closer to actual words. It reminded Rick of his and Lori’s early days with Carl, where they’d constantly been reading to him and encouraging him to talk. He could still remember the first time it happened, Lori rushing into their bedroom one morning with Carl in her arms and the widest smile on her face chanting, “Say it again, say it again for daddy, Carl!”

Carl’s first word had been  _ mama _ , and Rick had nearly fallen to the floor with joy when he’d heard it. Later, when they hadn't been so giddy with excitement they couldn't think straight, Lori told him that  _ “our next one will say ‘dada’ first, I just know it.” _

It gave him a small twinge of sadness knowing that she would likely be right, if only because Judith didn’t have a mother there to call for. For a while, when he and Michonne had first gotten together, he'd wondered if one day down the line she would want Judith to call her mother, but they had never gotten far enough to talk about it. 

A thought, crazy and reckless in its hope, raced across Rick’s mind:  _ yeah, but she might just be lucky enough to have two fathers, though. _

He wondered if that was presumptuous, thinking that Negan would one day be able to weave himself so fully into his life that Judith would see him as a father as well.

“Dad?”

Rick turned to see Carl in the doorway, looking oddly at war with himself. “Everything alright, Carl?”

“Um. Did you and Negan- are you- did you have a fight or something?”

Rick almost laughed. “No. Tara just walked in at a bad time. I already talked to him about it-”

“No, I mean- is that why he’s leaving?”

Rick’s stomach dropped out. “He’s…what?”

Carl looked staunchly uncomfortable, bare feet shifting on the hardwood floor. “He just left the house with his bag and Lucille and stuff. Said he’s going back to the Sanctuary. He didn’t…he didn’t tell you?”

The room seemed too small and airless all of a sudden, and Rick’s chest contracted, something painful and aching opening up beneath his ribs. “No. No, he didn’t. Carl, can you watch your sister, please? I need to…to talk to him.”

“Yeah. Of course.” Rick dropped a kiss on the top of his son’s head on the way out, and was surprised to hear Carl’s voice follow him down the hall.

“I just want you to be happy, dad. Even if that means that he’s here to stay.”

* * *

Rick raced out the front door, relieved to see that the snow seemed to be beginning to melt in the early morning sun. He all but broke into a run for the front gates, skidding to a halt on the thawing pavement when he caught sight of Negan. The other man must have heard him coming, because he stopped just short of the gate, turning slowly like it pained him to look Rick’s way.

“So that’s it? You’re leavin’, just like that?” Rick said when he was close enough for the other man to hear him, trying to keep his voice even despite the lump in his throat. “You weren’t even gonna say goodbye?”

Negan at least had the decency to look ashamed, though he still wouldn’t meet Rick’s eyes. “Not like we’ll never fucking see each other. Still got those leader meetings, right?”

“You’re just gonna take off back to the Sanctuary?” Rick growled, “after all the shit we’ve been through? After…after everything, you’re just gonna give up?”

Negan’s shoulders slumped. He looked miserable, like everything in him had been drained right out and was puddled on the pavement with the melted snow. “Rick, this isn’t gonna work. Your family comes first, and I get that. I can fucking respect it. You wouldn’t be the man I love if that wasn’t the case. But the people here aren’t gonna get used to having me around. Not in a week, not in a month, not in a year. We both know that.”

“If people have a problem with you bein’ here, they can take it up with me. I want you here. Don’t you get that, Negan? I want  _ you _ .”

“Your kid wants to move to the Hilltop, Rick. Your fucking _kid_ can’t stand to be around me so much that he’s leaving, and I don’t wanna be the reason he’s gone. Don’t want you to resent me.”

“Carl wants to go to the Hilltop because his girlfriend lives there. Because he wants to be a blacksmith, because he’s fifteen and has been actin’ older than that for a long time. I’m not gonna say he likes you, Negan, but he understands about you and me. He does.” Rick looked at him and wondered- how many excuses would Negan have? If it wasn’t Carl, it would be Michonne or Maggie or a hundred other things. He’d been trying to keep Negan here, assure him that he was wanted, but maybe…maybe Negan feeling wanted wasn’t the issue.

Maybe he just wanted to go. He thought of Lucille, how Negan hadn’t stayed faithful to her. Of his wives, of the distance he’d wedged between himself and everyone around him for so long. Rick had thought that it was just his way of coping, but maybe…maybe, deep down, Negan just didn’t like being tied down. Maybe Rick was just another noose around his neck, and he was scratching at his collar feeling it tighten until it choked him.

The thought was almost unbearable, but Rick bore it anyway. What else was there to do?

“If you wanna go, you can go. Not like there’s anything stoppin’ you.” He heard how pathetic, how broken he sounded, but he was too fragile to care.

“I just don’t wanna hurt you anymore, Rick. That’s all I’ve done the last year is hurt you, and I love you too much to keep being the reason for it all.”

At that, Rick snapped.

“You don’t wanna hurt me?” He hissed. “Fuck you, Negan. Just say what you mean. If you’re leavin’ me, just get it all out, don’t make this out like you’re some martyr.”

Negan blinked. “Rick, I-”

“No!” Rick shouted, taking a step forward. “You’re gonna fucking listen, Negan. You wanna throw away everything we’ve built up, fine. But you’re gonna listen to me. If you wanted to stop hurtin’ me you could have done this a long time ago. But this- this isn’t about me at all. No, this is about you. You just love running away, don’t you? You did it with Lucille, and now you’re doing it to me.”

Negan’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Don’t you fucking dare bring Lucille into this, Rick,” he warned.

“I am gonna bring her into it! I’ll bring anyone I want into it! I don’t know how to tell you I want you here any other way, Negan. I don’t know what I can do to make you stay, and I don’t even know if it’d be worth it to try. I was never one to keep chasing after people who wanted to leave me. So go. Take your shit and go, but call it what it is: you running away. You leaving me because you couldn’t handle it. Don’t act like this is for me, because if you really loved me, if you really didn’t want to hurt me, you would stay and make this work. You wouldn’t use other people as an excuse to run off.”

“I’m the reason your people- your fucking  _ family _ \- looks at you like you kicked their goddamned dog. You think it doesn’t fucking gut me to see how much you’ve lost because of me? You’d be better off with me gone, Rick,” Negan whispered brokenly, “you think it won’t fucking kill me to go?”

“Clearly not,” Rick spat out, feeling the tears burning behind his eyes. “Because if it did, you’d be willing to listen. You’d actually believe me when I told you that all the fucking sidelong glances and whispers and dirty looks are worth it. It’s all fucking  _ worth it _ .”

“You can find someone else to fuck, Rick. You’re a goddamned looker, alright? Fucking hero of Alexandria, Rick Grimes. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“I don’t want  _ anyone _ ,” Rick shouted, and it was to his utter frustration that he felt tears spill over his cheeks. “I want  _ you _ . Don’t you fucking get that, Negan? I want  _ you _ . This is the easiest it’s ever been for us to be together. We’re finally on the same side, and it’s all uphill from here if we want it to be. I don’t want anyone else, baby. I want you. I  _ love _ you. I’m in this for the fucking long haul, Negan. I want us to get to the place where you’re always staying here, where your home is with me, not back at the Sanctuary. I want this. All of it.”

Negan froze, standing stock-still and breathless. “Rick, don’t you dare say that shit to me to get me to stay. Don’t.”

“I’m not. I’m saying it because it’s the last chance you’re giving me to say it. I love you. I love you, Negan, and I want this to work. But I can’t be the only one fighting for us.”

Negan seemed to shatter at that, and he swayed toward Rick, dropping his belongings on the ground and gathering him in his arms. “I don’t want you to regret me,” he whispered into Rick’s hair, his voice thick with tears. “I don’t want you to wake up five years down the road and realize everything you gave up for me and hate me for it.”

“I don’t wanna wake up five years down the road and hate you for not giving me the chance to prove you wrong,” Rick said softly. “I have a lot of things I regret, Negan. Shit I’m ashamed of, shit I would change if I could go back and do it all over again. You’re not one of those things. I’m not gonna lie to you and say you never were. There were times, at the beginning, where I regretted a lot. But now? Now I see where it was all leading, and I wouldn’t change a thing. I don’t regret falling in love with you, Negan. I’m just scared you don’t feel the same about me.”

Negan’s arms tightened around him, fingers gripping at his back. “Oh, Rick. Rick, baby. I could never fucking regret you. Not for a fucking second. I love you, don’t you get that? I love you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with it.”

“Stay,” Rick said, cupping Negan’s face and tilting it down toward his own. “That’s what you do with it. You stay. You make this work. You keep loving me.”

Negan finally met Rick’s gaze then, fragile hope in his red-rimmed hazel eyes. He looked down at Rick with so much written across his face- fear, pain, want…but overtaking it all was the love there, unabashed in its depth when he smiled and whispered, “okay.”

* * *

**Epilogue:**

“It’s fucking quiet here with Carl gone so much,” Negan observed, kissing at Rick’s temple as he tucked his lover closer to himself where they lay sprawled on the couch. Rick made a soft noise in his throat and butted his head up against Negan’s jaw, running one hand down his chest.

“Judith’s been talkin’ more and more these days. And you’re never quiet for long.” He said it with a smile. Carl hadn’t moved to the Hilltop just yet, but his stays there had been getting longer, and Rick knew they were just a way of gently easing him into the idea of Carl one day moving there for good.

It was something he’d been trying to come to terms with. Negan and Michonne teased him a lot about empty nest syndrome, but that wasn’t quite accurate. Rick’s home felt anything but empty these days now that Negan was living there.

“You alright, baby? I know you fuckin’ miss him.”

“I’m alright.” Rick placed a chase kiss against the supple leather of Negan’s jacket- why the man insisted on wearing the damned thing in the house instead of something more comfortable was beyond him. “And you really should watch your mouth around Judy. She’s pickin’ up on a lot these days. Carl read her a comic the other day when he was here and she’s been namin' her stuffed animals after  Batman characters ever since.”

Negan snorted a laugh and dropped a quick apologetic glance at the little girl sitting on the floor a few feet away playing with a tower of blocks. “Sorry, Angel. Papa’s got to watch his mouth.”

Rick couldn’t help the giddy flutter in his belly whenever Negan referred to himself as Judith’s papa. Dada and Papa, she called them. Negan had been near tears when Rick had shyly suggested that he refer to himself as such around Judith- “Only if you want to. Just to…to differentiate, you know? Since she calls me Dada.”

He’d cried the first time she called him that. Rick had walked into Judith’s bedroom one evening expecting to find Negan reading her a bedtime story only to find him half-laughing half-weeping in her rocking chair with Judith on his knee asking, “papa?” like she was worried about the sobbing man’s well-being.

Rick found that there were a lot of new ways to fall in love with Negan.

Rick laid his head on Negan’s chest, letting his fingers wander idly across Negan’s chest down to his belly, enjoying the feel of the smooth leather. His hand stuttered to a stop when he felt something small inside one of the shallow pockets. “Somethin’ in there?” he asked, and he felt Negan stiffen against him, stoking his curiosity.

“It’s not- it’s nothing-” he stammered out when Rick unzipped it and slid a hand inside to retrieve-

“Rick-”

Rick blinked down at the object in his palm- a silver wedding band, pristine and polished despite it being tucked away in Negan’s pocket like a forgotten trinket. For a moment, he couldn’t quite make sense of it being there.

“Is this…was this yours?” he ventured. He’d never seen Negan wearing a wedding band, but he had to assume that he’d kept it even after Lucille had passed.

Negan shook his head, and when he spoke he sounded strangely uncertain. “Ah- no. It’s uh…well, fuck. It’s for you, actually. I mean, it- I’ve had it for a long time. Months. Arat and I were out on a run back when I still lived at the Sanctuary, and we passed a fucking jewelry store and I- I’d noticed you’d taken your ring off, and I thought that maybe one day…” he trailed off self-consciously, and Rick turned in his arms and sat up to meet his eyes.

“It’s for me?” He rolled the ring between his fingers, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Yeah. I mean- if you want. You don’t have to say anything now. I know we technically- we’re kind of fucking married, but that wasn’t really…” Rick had never heard him stumble over his words like this before. “I just fucking thought that maybe you’d like to do it right one day, you know?”

Rick felt a sweet swell of emotion flood in his chest, and he bit his lip to hold back the grin he could barely contain. He placed the ring in Negan’s palm, eyes dancing. “Ask me.”

Negan’s eyes crinkled at the corners, one hand sliding warmly up the line of Rick’s back. “Rick Grimes,” he whispered ardently, “will you fucking marry me? Again,” he amended, and Rick laughed wildly as he kissed him.

“Yes,” he breathed against Negan’s lips. “Yes, yes, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support and encouragement, guys! I'll miss this story a hell of a lot, but I'm excited about the next fic I'm working on. It's different, but I hope people will like it nonetheless.


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